


A Shitty Love

by MsChelseaMaria



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BBW, Bwwm, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fanfiction, Girl Power, Inspired by Doujinshi, Interracial Relationship, Jerk Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), My First AO3 Post, My First Work in This Fandom, Natural Hair, Romance, Spanking, plus size
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-29 18:11:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6387217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsChelseaMaria/pseuds/MsChelseaMaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Big Beautiful Woman.<br/>	A Jerk with A Heart of Gold.<br/>	Slap-Slap-Kiss.<br/>	Unresolved Sexual Tension.<br/>	Wouldn't you read it?</p>
<p>	Due to random universe warping-shenanigans, Simone Sumpter is now rooming with Humanity's Strongest. He's a hot angsty piece of ass, but Simone can't focus on that because the government is hot on he and the Survey Corps' scent, making the dimension hop seem not so random. Will Simone and Levi make out? Will they ever bump uglies? Why is Simone such a perv? Why are these the only questions being addressed? Find out in A Shitty Love!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

## (1)

 

 

 

                Rain streaked down the windows of Simone’s sedan as she sped through the early morning streets of southern San Francisco, back towards work. She huffed and her caramel face darkened with a scowl, irritated by this odd situation.

                _“We need you to come back in, tonight.”_

_2:17 AM. She squinted in disbelief when she saw the time on her phone. “Why? What is it that it can’t wait until the sun rises?”_

_“It’s an emergency and we need your skills. Be here within the hour.”_

                So, here she was, pulling into her parking spot with only a meager ho-bath to pass for cleaning. Her reflection in the rear view mirror didn’t betray her, though. Her tightly coiled black hair shook over her shoulders and back, threatening to obscure her wide brown eyes and full cheekbones. She wiped excess oil off her rounded nose, rubbed lip balm over her full pouty lips, and winked at herself. Out she stepped, looking anything but professional in the skinny blue jeans containing the subtle jiggle of her thighs and hips as her flats beat the concrete. A graphic white tee stretched across her ample belly as she dug for her ID.

                The automatic doors parted for her and she greeted the desk woman with a polite “Hello!” Despite her unwillingness to be here she was never one to take it out on others.

                After affixing the badge on her hip in the elevator, she wondered what warranted such haste. Confidence in her abilities as a psychologist and biotechnologist aside, she hesitated to imagine how terrible the situation could be. Simone was one of the few people in the company who had a psychology degree and, like the others, she only utilized it when other employees needed in-house therapy; those sessions were few and far between, her company’s HR department being as involved and well run as it was. _Hopefully nobody has imploded and started making suicide bomb threats or something,_ she mused, half joking. _Seriously, please don’t let that be it._

                The elevator doors slid open and there was Everett—another psychologist in the company— standing in the hallway, peeking curiously into a room with a large window. What looked to be a metal box with straps and a handle attached leaned on the adjacent wall. He caught sight of her and waved her over, face brightening.

                “They called you, too?” As he asked his hazel eyes took in the words on her top. “I guess ‘Shit _could_ be worse’,” he puffed, quoting her shirt as he raked his hands through his blonde hair. “Did they tell you what happened, though? I was with my girlfriend for the first time in weeks…”

                “No, they just—”

                At that moment, Claire exited the room they were standing by and walked briskly over to them, her usual long black bob pulled into a haphazard ponytail. Simone assumed that she was the one who’d made the call that had drawn her from her cozy bed, Claire being the floor supervisor and all. “Okay, guys, thanks for coming. What I’m about to say is a bit… outlandish, but bear with me—wait, James and Ferric aren’t here yet.” As if summoned, they appeared, hustling out of the elevator, both of their brown hair disheveled and tired faces looking hassled. “Alright, listen up… I found these guys in my neighborhood, coming from the direction of Mountain View _on horseback_ , with _these_ …” she held up the box of metal by the straps.

                Simone, James and Ferric each took a quick glance into the room and counted 10 people, each dressed in a tan cropped jacket, white trousers, knee-high boots, and a harness that crisscrossed up the thighs and torso. There were grey metal boxes lying around the room; two for each person, minus the one in Claire’s hand. They all bore the same white and blue winged emblem on their jackets. Some of them looked quite young.

                “They must be LARPers,” reasoned James.

                “At one o’clock in the fucking morning?!” Claire whispered.

                “Yeah, most LARPing is near the Bay anyway,” chimed in Ferric. “Pretty far to go from Mountain View on horseback.”

                “Even if they were, guys, _what_ were they LARPing?” Simone asked. “I watch a shit-ton of anime, I’ve never seen their outfits!”

                “That’s not all, they didn’t say they were cosplayers--or whatever,” Clair said hastily before Ferric could interrupt. “They said they were from a place enclosed by circular walls, and when people go outside the walls they get _eaten by giants_. AND they fight these man-eating giants.”

                All was silent except for a clicking sound in the distance as everybody processed what Claire had said. “Are they European?” asked Everett.

                “The fuck, Everett?” Claire said as everybody turned to Everett with looks that clearly said “what is wrong with you?”

                “That’s racist, man,” accusation in Ferric's grey eyes. Simone side-eyed him visibly.

                “What? I’m not racist! I—” Everett began.

                “Simone, was that racist? You’re black, you know when something is racist,” James said.

                “Damnit! I’m not the only person of color here! Claire’s Asian.”

                James was about to consult Claire when she cut over him. “I give two shits if it’s racist or not right now! We’re talking about these people!”

                “LARPing can get pretty intense,” Ferric said. Simone wondered what he did in his spare time.

                “They’re not LARPers, man,” said Simone.

                “I don’t think so either. Look at this.” Claire took the metal box by the handle protruding from it and unsheathed a long blade.

                “This is probably foil or someth—AHHH!” James’ assessment was cut short as he placed a finger on the sharp edge and drew back with a bloody gash on it.

                “See? Not LARPers. Also, I swear that one of the guys was knocked out with scars on his face and missing a hand. Now he’s fine; not a scratch on him.” Claire looked like she found her own words ridiculous.

                James tried to stem the blood flow with his shirt. “Are you sure? Were you high when you saw this?”

                “No! I know it sounds ridiculous, but they all seem so….”

                “Sane?” Simone finished for her. “Psychosis’ll do that to ya.”

                “So you called us to do evaluations on them? Why not just hand them over to the police so they can be evaluated? They could be crazy cultists or something!” Everett was beside himself.

                “Physicals, too,” Claire looked at Everett and James, who were both psychiatrists. “and I didn’t take them to the police because if I was lost and confused in a strange place I would not want to be handed over to people who would just lock me away in a mad house.”

                Simone poked her head back into the window and observed their patients, of a sort. They were mostly talking amongst themselves, expressions calm but wary. One of them, a short young man with a buzz cut was crouched in front of the flat screen clicking the power button repeatedly while a taller auburn haired girl stood over him in awe as she gnawed on a piece of beef jerky; a blonde guy lankier than either of them stood propped against the wall with his long face in a slightly disinterested expression. Another trio of teens lined the sofa, one small, blonde and male--talking animatedly--; another male of average height and dark haired with intense teal eyes; the other a girl with black hair and delicate features faintly reminiscent of Japanese heritage. On the sofa directly across from the window there sat three adults who looked to be around her own age. A brown haired person with goggles on seemed extremely excited, speaking in an unbroken stream while a younger blonde man stood silently behind their side of the sofa like a sentry. The man sitting next to them was tall and blonde with what Simone could only describe as “fabulous eyebrows”, clear blue eyes, and missing half an arm. The last man was almost the shortest of the group. His raven black hair neatly parted into an undercut and his face was absolutely blank. His heavily lidded eyes swept the room critically and the furrow on his brow deepened for a moment. _I like his face . . ._  Simone thought idly. Notions like that were not unusual for her; she’d mentally defiled half the men she saw since middle school.

                Claire led them into the room and began explaining to their guests what they’d be doing. Simone looked at them up close and tried to cement their faces in her mind. It was soon apparent to her that as she took them in, they were doing the same to her with expressions ranging from respectful interest to frantic curiosity. As Claire went on, they listened to her but their eyes shifted back to Simone again and again. She fought the urge to cover herself and wondered if she had a booger in her nose. _I should’ve picked a different shirt._ This was going to be a long day.

 

 

 

 

### Levi

 

 

                This was shit.

                They were in this confusing place with no idea how to get back to Wall Maria. This world was loud, and smelled strange. There were no walls enclosing anyone here, and, going off what the Claire woman had said, no Titans. A place this size was bound to have a government as shitty and corrupt as theirs was before they made that brat, Historia, queen. How long would she remain queen with the Survey Corps’ Commander Erwin gone? How long would the people inside the walls last before Titans broke through the wall and turned every last human in to shit? How long before someone in _this_ damned place found out about Eren and tried to dissect him? Would they also cut open Mikasa and himself? They had no way of knowing if these people were deceiving them to do just that. These people… that _other_ woman…

                Simone was her name. Levi had never seen anyone like her. Her skin was extremely tan. Her body was plump and curved, especially at the hips. And her hair— _her hair_ … it astounded him the most; a huge mass of tiny spirals that bounced when she walked. She would’ve definitely gotten kidnapped and sold to someone extremely wealthy inside the walls.

                But they were not inside the walls. Apparently they were in Silicon Valley--whatever the hell that was--surrounded by buildings that would tower over the Colossal Titan and metal carriages moving several times faster than horses. Everywhere he looked there were glowing screens projecting words or images or sounds of their own volition, it seemed.

                As “James” and “Everett” wrapped devices around their forearms in a wide room with lots of machines, Simone questioned them and clicked endlessly on a device similar to a typewriter, but with a lit screen attached.

                “Could you all give me your names?” Erwin Smith, Levi Ackerman, Zoe Hange, Moblit Berner, Armin Arlert, Mikasa Ackerman, Eren Yeager, Jean Kirschstein, Sasha Blouse, Connie Springer. “Oh, are you guys related?” Simone asked himself and Mikasa.

                “We… think so,” Levi answered.

                Simone’s tan face showed her confusion. “There are many things we don’t know about where we come from, thanks to the Titan threat,” Erwin offered. Simone hummed contemplatively and continued her questionnaire. _They probably don’t believe us,_ Levi thought.

                Hange began to counter-question their hosts about the machinery they were using and why. Levi simply watched what they did and listened, wondering how advanced their weapons were if this was what they used for simple exams. After they were poked and prodded they were made to do light exercise while wires were stuck to their bodies. These exercises were nothing to Levi, and he turned over their situation in his mind while he ran on the so-called treadmill. _What brought us here? What if it was on purpose? If it was, who did it? And why—*BAM*_ Claire burst through the door and panted, “NASA is here!”

 

 

 

### Simone

 

 

 

                “What? NASA!?” Simone repeated with disbelief.

                “Why?” asked Everett.

                “They’re asking to look around. They’re outside right now,” Clair panted through heavy breaths.

                “You think—you think it’s because of these guys?” James asked.

                Claire nodded. “They look like agents. Like, from a movie, agents.”

                Erwin approached their huddle, “Who is NASA? Why do you think they’re here because of us?”

                “They’re a government organization, and they’ve never _ever_ popped up like this,” Clair said to him. Erwin looked at his fellows and nodded.

                Simone wondered what that meant as she and her colleagues followed Claire out of the gym, presumably to find a suitable place to hide the “Survey Corps” as they called themselves, _I guess that_ is _what they are…_ when five large suited men exited the elevator.

                They all stopped speed walking and tried to look normal. “How may I help you gentlemen?” Claire said invitingly.

                “We’re NASA personnel, looking for some items of ours that have been… misplaced,” the man speaking was tall, bald and nicely tanned like Mr. Clean—in Simone’s opinion at least— “Do you mind if we look around?” Mr. Clean had already motioned for his men to search.

                “Why are you searching our facilities, Mr. …?” Simone asked.

                “Brown. We’re searching all facilities in the areas surrounding our base, mam,” he said, holding out a warrant and badge to Claire while looking at Simone’s vulgar shirt and back to her face. She gave him a once-over with a cheeky smile even though she inwardly panicked at the sound of the other suits getting closer to the gym. _Nononononononononooooo_ were her exact thoughts. She did not want to know what these dudes who were obviously not just NASA personnel would do to them if they knew too much.

                Simone heard the gym door open and braced herself for the tranquilizer or _pshh_ of a silenced pistol or many other unfortunate scenarios her frantic brain could produce but it never came. The door closed after a few seconds and they continued the search. Where had their crazies who now didn’t seem so deranged go?

                “What are you doing at work this time of morning?” Mr. Clean asked.

                Claire looked at her watch and exclaimed, “Its four already?! Damn, guys we got carried away with work! Good job team!” _Go ahead and freeze-frame us all high fiving, Claire, that’ll really make him believe us,_ Simone thought sarcastically. Her manager was obviously terrible at lying to police.

                “What were you working on?” Mr. Clean’s men had finished with this floor and were continuing on the higher levels.

                “We can’t tell you that,” said Claire.

                “Of course you can, I won’t tell.”

                “Its top secret!” she insisted.

                “As a government official with a warrant, I’m asking because of its value to our search,” Mr. Clean said with a smile that could disintegrate kitchen grime.

                “It’s an affordable anti-inflammatory that people can take routinely to prevent eczema flare-ups before they happen, instead of having to go to a doctor for constant break-outs, if you must know. Claire doesn’t want to lose her job for leaking company projects, and neither do we,” Simone said smoothly. “So, I hope you were serious when you said you wouldn’t tell.”

                “Hm. That sounds extremely convenient. I have eczema myself,” Mr. Clean eyed Simone appreciatively.

                “So you’ll keep quiet?” Simone asked, daring to sound a little bolder than she felt.

                He was about to reply when his earpiece lit up with sound. Whatever news he got must’ve been satisfying because he then smiled genuinely at Simone and said “I won’t tell a soul.” He pulled out a card and handed it to her. “Call me when it’s ready… or before.”

                “About the medication, Mr. Brown?” Simone asked with raised brow. _Sir, you were literally about to kill us, now you’re macking. We have orthopedic seats in the next room, please take one._

                “Sure. It’s Jason, by the way. Have a nice day ladies, gentlemen…” The elevator doors opened behind him and he joined his associates. They went into one of the windowed rooms and watched until they saw the NASA agents drive away with a convoy of SUVs. Ferric audibly exhaled and slumped against the wall.

                “Dude, are you okay?” asked Everett.

                “Yeah, I’m good. I just got warrants,” he said, casually.

                “For your _arrest_?” asked James, disbelief touching his brown eyes.

                “Yea—” he stopped abruptly when he saw Claire stare at him, “… aaa-of course not. Another kind.”

                _This fool is a legit fugitive!_ Simone thought with mild amusement.

                They found the gym completely emptied. “Where’d they go?” asked Claire as James approached the windows. “We left them here, how’d they get--”

                Before she could finish, the Survey Corps drifted down from the top of the wall closest to the door Claire and her team had just re-entered. As each of them touched the ground, metal cords zipped from the ceiling into their boxes of metal that held several of the same type of sword-thing that had previously cut James. Looking at the wall, Simone could tell they must’ve dug the blades in as handholds.

                “Holy shit, that was cool!” said Everett. Connie and Sasha tried to strike poses of appreciation, but looked mostly silly.

                “How did you do that?” Claire asked them.

                “Our 3D Maneuver Gear. It is how we fight the titans,” Erwin said.

                “Oookaaay. We need to have a long talk before people get here for work in a few hours, but, first, you all need to shower and change.” Claire started towards the door.

                “What’s a shower?” asked Hange.

                Clair explained it to them and each was amazed except Hange, who seemed a little disappointed. Levi walked out the door first after Claire, saying, “Maybe this place isn’t so shitty.”


	2. Chapter 2

## (2)

 

 

                Simone propped against a counter in the snack room, organizing her points as she watched Sasha try to horde the food they’d just provided their new in-house ninjas. They looked unsure of the sweatpants and t-shirts they’d been provided with after their shower; they tugged and rubbed on them now, apparently unfamiliar with the fabrics.

Claire had told her to lead the discussion, since she was the head psychologist. “Alrighty. Let’s start this off honest. We want to help you guys, but we gotta know the whole truth. So, is there anything-- _anything_ that could be pertinent info that we might want or need to know about you?”

                There was weighted silence.

                “I can turn into a titan,” Eren said suddenly.

                “Come again?”

                “Is that why you were unconscious and missing your hand when I found you all?” Claire asked perkily.

                Eren nodded and continued, “I use my titan form to help humanity, but sometimes its hard on my human body.”

                “Okay! We’ll come back to that. Anything else?”

                “Mikasa and I aren’t normal,” Levi started. “There’s something about our lineage that makes us stronger and faster, regardless of our size.”

                “Like performance enhancers?” asked Everett.

                “We don’t have whatever those are inside the walls.”

                “I think we should do blood work on all of you,” said James.

                “I agree; could you get some collection kits?” James hustled out of the room.

                “Can you take some of Eren’s spinal fluid?” Hange asked.

                “Sure, but why?” asked Everett.

                “To help us discern his titan powers,” she answered.

                “May we ask some questions, mam?” Armin asked.

                “ _He’s ADORABLE! Does he kill giants, too? So cute, so cute…”_ “Of course,” Simone said instead of what she was thinking.

                “Why didn’t you give us to your government?”

                “Well, your story sounded ridiculous at first, but if NASA was looking for you with that much man power, there were two explanations. Either, you’re brainwashed government test subjects, or telling the truth,” said Claire.

                “Either choice still ended with helping you being the right answer—morally speaking,” said Ferric.

                “Immorally?” asked Armin.

                “Immorally… we would hand you over to feds, pretend this never happened and hope they don’t kill us for talking to you,” said Everett. “There are rumors about our government killing people who threaten to expose their secrets one way or another.”

                “They why do you continue with them in charge?” Erwin asked.

                That was a tough question.

                “I suppose,” Simone started hesitantly, “because ‘the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few’ sometimes. They encourage technological advance, we elect our officials, there are laws against discrimination of women and minorities… even with the slow progress to true acceptance of all types of people, it’s still the most likely place to live a successful, free life, even if you aren’t a white male.”

                “‘White’ being…?” Hange asked.

                Simone looked at them all. “You all have no concept of other races inside your walls?”

                “As in people who look very differently from us?” Hange asked. “Mikasa is about as different as we’ve seen before you.”

                “Is that why you all stared at me earlier?” Simone asked, starting to feel a little better about their first meeting. “It’s a good thing you guys said something, then. Can’t let you outta here with no knowledge of black people… that could’ve been a disaster.”

                “So you’re a black person?” asked Eren.

                “Yes.”

                “Why?” Levi asked gruffly. “Your skin isn’t black, it’s a nice shitty tan color.”

                Simone didn’t know if that was a compliment or insult, but she was leaning toward the latter. “What??”

                “You’ll have to excuse Levi, he just talks that way,” said Erwin apologetically.

                “… Okay, just _do not_ say that or anything like that to any person of color. It sounds _terribly_ offensive.”

                “That doesn’t make it less true,” Levi replied. She side-eyed Levi as he stared back at her; deadpan seemed to be his default expression. He evidently gave no fucks.

                “You’re also a person of color?” asked Armin.

                “Yes, that’s the collective term for any person who….” She searched for a simple definition that they would understand, “who doesn’t look like you guys, except Mikasa.” Simone began a long explanation of different races and socially appropriate behavior while James and Everett drew their blood. When she said not to touch their hair without asking, Hange interrupted with “Will they have hair like yours?”

                “Some will, some won’t. It really varies from person to person.”

                “May I touch yours?” Hange asked excitedly.

                “Oh god…” Simone mumbled and slumped as she heard a couple more requests from Sasha and Connie. “No! You have to get used to seeing different people and not touching them. Don’t bring attention to yourselves!”

                “But, it would be better if we had at least _some_ experience with it!” Hange insisted.

                “That may be true, but definitely not before we get your bloodwork back. You may be immune to diseases that we are not, and vice versa.” Simone was relieved when Hange didn’t argue with that. “We’ll educate you more on people of color later—”

                “We?” Everett asked reluctantly, gesturing to himself and the other white people.

                “Claire and I—”

                “Nope,” Claire rejected.

                _“Fuckers…”_ Simone sighed inwardly. “ _I_ will educate you more about it later.”

                “How will we get back to our world?” Levi asked.

                “We have no idea,” Simone said plainly. “But we think the people that were here earlier were looking for you and had something to do with it.” They gave the Survey Corps a better understanding of what NASA was and why they believed they were involved.

                “So, they _may_ have the means to send us back, but you don’t think they will,” Erwin summed.

                “Exactly. So, while we try to figure out a way to get you home, we have to hide you.”

                “We’re dividing you amongst us by space available and compatibility,” said Claire. “I have kids and lots of space, so which three of you are good with children?” Sasha immediately raised her hand and Connie followed, then Jean. “Will there be food?” Sasha asked seriously.

                “Lots,” said Claire, much to Sasha’s pleasure.

                “Who’s most comfortable with sharing a bed with each other?” asked Everett.

                “Eren and I can sleep together,” Mikasa volunteered. Eren was about to object when Everett continued, “You guys are with me.”

                “I’m a huge nerd—sorry, I like to learn about stuff and talk about it with people,” said James. “Anyone like that at all?” Armin, Erwin and Hange raised their hands. “I can only have two people though. You two.” He said pointing to the two blondes.

                “Who likes to not make a mess?” Simone asked brightly.

                “Is there a mess already?” Levi huffed.

                Simone looked at his inexpressive face, _“This is going to be fun,”_ she thought sarcastically. “No, my home is quite clean.”

                “We’ll see.”

                “I’m down for whatever,” said Ferric. Only Hange and Moblit were left so it was settled.

                “How will I communicate with my soldiers?” Erwin asked.

                “Oh, we have these,” Claire held up her smartphone. “They’re phones and we call each other with them. You can use them when you want. I’ll give you each a company phone once you get the hang of ours. I’m giving you guys the day off to set up, by the way,” she said to her employees. “I’ll keep your horses at my house since I have a yard.”

                “We’ll need our gear and clothes,” Levi said. “In case something happens.”

                Simone wondered how safe that would be, seeing as there were basically swords contained in those things. “Don’t let anyone see it, though.”

                Erwin gave her a small smile. “Of course, we’ll be extremely discreet.”

 

 

 

                Simone walked through her front door and hung her soggy trench on the wall as Levi walked in behind her. He gave the room a sweeping look and approached the bar. He dragged a finger along it.

                _“Is this bastard checking for dust?!”_ Simone wondered with much annoyance. He said nothing, and continued looking around. “Well? Are you going to show me around or are we going to have a staring contest until you have to shit?”

                “Why are you such a dick?”

                “That’s supposed to mean what, exactly?”

                “You’re rude. An asshole. Mean. Unpleasant. A little shit.” She could go on, but she decided not to.

                He’d listened to her with a furrowing brow. “Well you are, too, apparently. I’ve been in your home ten seconds and you’ve already insulted me six times. Besides, I talk this way because I was raised in a shitty environment by a shitty person and had shitty experiences. It’s not meant to offend.”

                Simone relaxed a bit. “Well, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” she finished with a sly grin.

                Levi narrowed his eyes at her sentiment. “Please.”

                “I’ll show you around, Mr. Sensitive.” She showed him his room, the bathroom and the laundry room, then led him back into the open space that held the kitchen, dining area and living room.

                “Where’s your bedroom?” he asked. She pointed to the door on the opposite side of the living room. “Aren’t you going to show it to me?”

                “Why? So you can check my panties for dust like you did the counter?”

                “And you complained about me being vulgar . . . I want to see what hygiene products this world has,” Levi said plainly.

                “What do you guys have in your world?” Simone asked, hoping to avoid having him poking around her private spaces.

                “Soap.”

                “That’s sad.” said Simone.

                “I’m sorry, we’re too busy getting eaten by titans and suppressed by a corrupt monarchy to come up with shit like _showers_.”

                “Such sass…” Simone walked through the master bed room and into her large bathroom, gesturing for Levi to look around. He walked along the bathroom counter, taking in the many bottles before the long mirror. As he approached her massive bathtub she looked on the counter for a hair tie.

                He turned to her, touching the gilded handle of her toilet as she swept her coils back and towards the top of her head. “What are you doing?” he asked.

                “It’s called a pineapple. I need my hair out of the way while I cook. Are you allergic to anything?” Her locks skimmed the tips of her eyelashes and ears.

                “No.”

                “Good. Now get out, I need to get out of these jeans.”

 

 

 

                As Simone scrambled eggs and browned apple slices in cinnamon and honey simultaneously Levi kept a steady stream of questions coming. “So college is like harder school that you have to pay for. Did you get married in college?”

                “No, I’ve never been married. I had a couple boyfriends in college. They distracted me from my studies, though, so I had to let them go. Are you married?”

                “Are you an idiot? Of course not. The Survey Corps weren’t a very well favored faction of the military.”

                “Oh? Why?”

                “They saw us as a waste of funds and our death rate is high. I’ve lost many subordinates.”

                His silence told Simone they were more than subordinates. “I’m sorry.”

                “I chose not to be. Their sacrifice contributed towards humanity’s survival.”

                “You really do sound like a soldier. Are all of you guys soldiers, even cute little Armin?”

                “Hmph, cute?” Levi snorted.

                “Yes! He’s a cutie! _And_ he’s polite. That’s always nice… if not a little boring after a while.” She grabbed toast from the toaster.

                “He’s killed people. And he’s a strategic genius, much like Erwin. So, yes, he is a soldier and a valuable one.”

                “People? Not titan-people? Plain ol’ people?” Simone asked as she removed bacon from the over.

                “Yes. They were trying to kill us and take Eren, but they were still people.”

                “Hmmm… people kill each other here, too. Did you kill any of those people?”

                “Many. They call me Humanity’s Strongest for a reason.”

                Simone didn’t flinch. “Hopefully your blood work will shed some light on you and Mikasa’s super-ness.” She prepared them each a plate.

                “How old are you, brat?” Levi asked.

                “Definitely too old to be called a brat,” she chuckled. “I’m around your age.”

                “32?”

“Close. 30,” she said digging in to her breakfast.

                “That’s hard to believe.” He said, sipping cautiously from the glass she sat in front of him. “What is this drink?”

                “Orange juice. Are you dissatisfied, sir?

                “I’ve never had it. Do you have tea?” he asked with interest.

                “A few, but there are lots of different kinds.” She saw he looked less apathetic about that. He dug in to his food and fell into an appreciative silence.

                Simone took the chance to study him. She still found his face handsome, even though such asinine stuff came out of it. His shoulders were well shaped for his height and every muscle of his chest was clearly defined through the cotton of his t-shirt. She eyed his bulging arm muscles as he ate. _Ugh he’s so stupid and short but so hot…_ He looked up at her and she realized she’d been standing on tiptoe to get a peek of his abs.

                “So you’re a pervert?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

                “Yup.” She withdrew and began to eat her breakfast.

                “Why aren’t you ashamed? Don’t you have a suitor at all?”

                “No. I had a boyfriend for long time until a week ago. Now I’m just enjoying being alone for a while.”

                “Aren’t you too old to be alone?” he asked bluntly.

                “Aren’t you?” she retorted.

                “Shitty brat… I have something I’m extremely dedicated to.”

                “So do I, dickhead. My career.”

                He fell quiet again. Simone wiggled and pulled her shorts down as they rode up; she might visually rape Levi, but she was very guarded of her own body. _There will be no super-sized cheek peeks this morning._

                “Ass too big for your ‘shorts’?” he said, referring to her little struggle.

                “Now who’s a pervert?”

                “Please, it’s impossible not to notice. You’re a giant.”

                Simone let out an agitated breath. “You’re making it hard to not give you to the feds, little guy.”

                “Tch,” he said and stared at her poisonously over his glass of orange juice. _That’s the spot,_ Simone thought victoriously. She smiled at him sweetly and said, “Lets watch some TV.”

                Simone showed him what television was and how it was accomplished, then explained her laptop and the concept of the internet. Once he understood those, she handed him her smartphone. “It’s like my laptop, except smaller and you can call people almost anywhere if they have one, too.” She continued to describe its functions while showing him how to call and text.

                “Oi,” he started not looking away from the phone; he had discovered her games. “Where can I get a shirt like yours?”

                “It’s from a custom store online. Speaking of clothing, you need some. I’m sure you don’t want to wear these same sweatpants every day.”

                “Are you rich or something?” he asked.

                “Of course not! I just save my money well. I can spare a few hundred dollars right now.” Simone looked at the bright day outside the living room window. “I guess it’s close to noon now, so I’ll go get ready. Don’t run my battery down with the games!” As she turned and walked toward the bathroom she heard a clear “tch.”

Levi turned out to be a sharp dresser. His style was minimal but classy and Simone considered his look rather dashing, even with his sass. As they shopped he took in the people and noted what was normal for this world. Simone felt he was blending in perfectly in his dark blue, slim jeans and beige button-down.

When they were finished compiling his temporary wardrobe, they sat in a food court and asked her, “Where do you find clothes to fit your tall ass?”

                “Well, I’m what you call ‘plus size’ so I mostly shop online.” She ate a few spoonfuls of her stir fry and continued, “Most retailers don’t hold clothing cut for women of my stature.”

                Levi eyed her scalloped hem, off-shoulder blouse and flouncy short skirt. “So, because you’re fat, you shop that way.”

                “Being a diiiiick,” Simone sang, not really minding; her skin had grown thick by her senior year of high school. Besides, she was getting used to him.

                “I didn’t say you looked bad.”

                Simone stared at him, a smile easing onto her face. “Is that a compliment? Sounds like you’re saying I look good in Levi-nese.”

                “Shut up, brat,” he said, sipping green tea from a bottle. “But you do seem… popular.”

                She chuckled jokingly, “How did you come to that conclusion?”

                He simply looked around and chewed some of his rice.

                “What do you do for fun inside your walls?” Simone asked.

                “We play a game called ‘Stay Alive.’ Are you familiar with it?”

                Simone almost laughed at his snark. “Nothing at all?”

                “The wealthy had a few board games, but that’s it. What do you do?”

                That was a broad question. “Well, sometimes when I’m out and it’s a nice day, I visit the beach. Sometimes I swim.”

                “What’s a beach?”

 

 

 

                An hour later, she stood shoeless with him on a quiet part of the Santa Cruz beach as the sun neared the horizon, tinting the sky and clouds an ever deepening red. A gentle breeze brought the beginnings of the night-time chill as they listened to the waves slowly crashing against the shore. Levi walked towards the sparkling water.

                “What do you think?” she asked, joining him. He was silent so she looked over at him to find his standard apathetic expression replaced with one of amazement as he stared out at the seascape. He closed his eyes as the wind blew his hair back and drew a deep breath of the salty air.

                “Not bad at all,” he said quietly. He continued walking until he was waist deep. It felt strange to him, like the water was alive and moving around him. He turned his palms downward and placed them on the cold water. His eyes lowered and he relaxed, letting himself just feel for a moment. Then, a particularly strong wave hit him from the side and he fell over.

                Simone laughed at him from her calf-high position. She waited for him to resurface. He was taking a while.

                _He’d never seen a beach . . . can he. . .? HE CAN’T SWIM._ “Omygod, omygod, omygod,” she chanted with increasing franticness as she ran-waded to where she last saw him. “He’s gone,” she said, looking wildly into the water as fear gripped her, “he’s dead, I killed him, oh no nonononono!” She heard a gasp and looked up to see his head and arms flailing above the surface for a moment, several yards farther out. _He’s getting carried out to sea!!_ She inhaled and dove.

                She kicked furiously, hoping she was going in the right direction. _Please be holding your breath!!_ After what seemed like forever he came into view, trying to claw his way back to air. She grabbed him just as his eyes closed and bubbles exited his mouth. _NO!_ she screamed inside. She dragged him upwards until their heads broke through the water. “Levi!” she shouted as she paddled back towards the sand; he wasn’t breathing. “LEVI!! Please, wake up!!” Reaching the shore line, she threw him onto the ground in a panic and immediately began trying to resuscitate him. She closed her mouth over his own slack lips and breathed out hard twice. She rose up and pressed on his chest repeatedly. “No, no, no, please breathe, please be alive…” Suddenly he jerked back to life, coughing, and she turned him on his side until he had all the seawater out of his lungs.

                Still hacking and panting, Levi turned to her and gasped, “How am I not dead?”

                “I gave you CPR.” Simone was panting, too, from the shock of relief that washed over her when he opened his eyes. She flopped beside him and closed her eyes. “That escalated quickly.”

                He stared at her until he gained his composure then said, “Thank you.”

                “Don’t worry about it. I brought you out here, anyway.”

                “For that, too,” he said.

                She laughed dryly. “Maybe I’ll endanger your life tomorrow, since you like it so much.”


	3. Chapter 3

## (3)

 

 

              Simone stood under the nearly scalding stream of water and let the suds run off her hair and skin until the water was the only thing left on her fleshy body. Turning off the water, she pulled open the glass shower door and gave her head a quick patting before she donned her bath wrap. The tools and products she’d set out were waiting for her beside the sink as she approached with a solemn air. “Time to do this hair,” she told herself. Clipping her heavy, waterlogged mane into tight sections, she slathered the first quadrant with silky detangler and went to work.

              Just as she started the last section, “Oi,” came Levi’s voice and sharp rap on the door. “Are you done shitting? Is the smell too strong for me to come in?”

              “I’m naked,” she lied, “but you can come in anyway.” A hesitant second passed before he stuck his head in the door. “You’re a dirty old perv.”

              “Shitty fat ass…” he came in and stood against the wall, watching. “What are you doing?”

              “Detangling my hair. Because it’s so tightly curled, I give it more attention than if it were as straight as yours,” she tilted her head towards his own coif, which had been raked backwards away from his face.

              “So it really grows like that?” he asked.

              “No, I have a special blend of rainbows and joy that I put on my scalp during the full moon. Yes, it grows like this.”

              “Tch,” was his only response as he watched her pull the brush through the tangles. When she put it down he asked, “can I . . . feel it?”

              She considered him in the mirror for a while, thinking how she’d already been exposed to any pathogens he might be harboring. “Sure, but don’t tell everybody I let you do it. I’m not a fucking zoo animal.”

              Levi approached and plunged his fingers into her coils, straight to the scalp. With both hands he rubbed, inadvertently massaging. He withdrew his hands and tugged on an individual lock, pulling it to a length almost three times its initial appearance. He did that with a few more strands then gently crushed handfuls of curls in his hands and watched them spring back. He went back to touching her roots.

              Her eyes opened when he withdrew his hands. She exhaled thoughtfully, saying “that felt nice.”

              “Then why don’t you want people to touch it?” he asked, wiping his hands on the nearby towel.”

              “It’s usually not like that. Most people just want to yank it and snatch their hands through it or ruffle it up.”

              “Aren’t there lots of black people with hair like yours?”

              “Not as many as you’d think.”

              “Why not?”

              Simone deliberated for a moment. “I have a long explanation and a short one.”

              “In that case, let me reschedule my ‘nothing to fucking do’ for later, shitty fat ass.”

              Simone smiled wryly and began the lengthy origin story of African Americans in the United States of America, beginning with slavery and ending with relaxing and why it was created. “So, even though it’s easier to be accepted without trying to assimilate to white American culture nowadays, lots of black people still relax because they are comfortable with it.”

              He had not interrupted during her speech, but now asked, “Why don’t you?”

              “Well, I did when I was younger. Little Simone, like many other black girls at the time, went through a decade and a half of her life not knowing anyway other than straight hair was possible or even acceptable. All I knew was my hair was one more part of me that was wrong and needed to be 'fixed'.” She looked down into the sink. “Then my hair started to thin from the chemicals, and I had to keep cutting it off. Yet, I was still afraid of going natural, as it’s called. I was afraid I would not be considered pretty, that I would not be able to consider myself pretty, that I would be adding yet another fault on top of fat, black, and unorthodox.” She looked back at her reflection and beamed at herself. “Then one day when I was 16, something was different in me, I don’t know what triggered it. I looked in the mirror at myself and smiled. Because I felt beautiful just being me. Not long after that, I cut all my straightened hair off and grew it from a teensy little afro.” She looked over at Levi, finished.

              “What do you mean ‘unorthodox’?”

              “Well, most of the people where I grew up had a strict idea of what black females were supposed to be like. I was not it. I’m a little unconventional, I suppose. Different is something you don’t want to grow up being in a southern back-woods town.” Her mouth was dry from talking so long. “I’m tired of blabbering about me, for now.” She slipped some shorts on under her towel wrap, a huge t-shirt over it, then unstrapped her towel and let it fall. “Tell me about your shitty experiences,” she demanded, walking towards the kitchen for water.

              She sipped and he began slowly, “I lived in the Underground, a poor place like a cave city under part of wall Maria. I watched my mother die in a filthy room where she took men who paid her. I became an orphan, and I probably would’ve died within the week if it wasn’t for Kenny, my uncle. He was a murderous shitty bastard, but he taught me to get my own food and take care of myself. He taught me how to be like him. Then one day, he left me, too.”

              “What did you do then?” Simone asked.

              “I became a famous painter and lived off my art sales,” he said sarcastically.

              “I can see that,” she commented with a nod.

              “Shut up. I did what I’d learned how to do. Be a criminal. I was rather good, thanks to my Ackerman blood. I made a couple of friends.”

              “What happened to them?”

              He looked up at her before continuing, “titans killed them when we tried to assassinate Erwin to escape the Underground.”

              “The plot thickens,” said Simone, putting on some tea.

              “A powerful noble wanted him dead and would give us citizenship on the surface.”

              “What made you decide to join him instead?”

              “His willingness to sacrifice everything to free humanity from the titans. He’s brilliant mad man. He was several steps ahead of us, in any case.”

              “Hm. Did you ever see Kenny again?”

              “Yes. The first thing he did was kill several of my subordinates and try to shoot me.”

              “Did you immediately try to kill him back?” Simone asked, deeply invested.

              “No, I poured him a cup of tea and talked about my feelings. Noisy brat… of course I did. But neither of us succeeded. He died later anyway. Still,” Levi’s face showed the faintest hint of a smile, “he wasn’t a total bastard.”

              Simone smiled at him and poured them both a cup.

              Levi looked at her, deadpan back in place. “You’re very accepting for one so… privileged, shitty fat ass.”

              “My life wasn’t always like this. Anyway, I’m a psychologist, I told you, I’m trained to be,” she informed him as she added milk and sugar to her tea.

              “But you also said your job is to fix the problems. Why aren’t you trying to fix mine?”

              “You’re not broken. You are coping with your reality. You’re functioning and feeling as much a soldier whose seen crazy shit can afford to. You’re just so sensitive all the time.”

              “You’re an idiot. What was your life like before?”

              She looked at the time on her phone and jogged out of the kitchen. “I’ll tell you later.”

              He sipped the tea. “What is this?”

              “Chai tea. It’s good, right?” He smelled it and sipped some more as she eased onto the large brown couch in front of the flat screen, folding her legs under her. She aimed the top of her phone at the TV and Blu-ray.

              Levi sat on the cushion beside her. “How did you manage to pull me back to the beach when I was knocked out?”

              “I exercise,” she said as the screen came to life. “You’re wondering how I’m still so plump?”

              “Obviously.”

              “I like to eat. Most times, I make myself healthy meals, but I also like to treat myself with delicious things like brownies or pizza. But I’m mindful not to gain or lose too much; balance is key.” Simone found the cartoon she was looking for.

              “What the hell is ‘Steven Universe’?” Levi asked, watching the bright opening song.

              “A show I like to watch,” Simone said quickly.

              “Is it for brats?”

              “Yes.”

              “Why are you watching it?”

              She paused it and looked at him. “It is profound, complex, relatable, diverse and beautiful—but, Levi, unless you want to watch it from the first episode, you gotta put the questions on hold for the next eleven minutes.”

              “Tch,” he huffed and put the tea back to his lips.

              Simone hastily resumed her show. Levi sat through the whole thing then said “Show me the beginning.”

              “You want to watch it?” Simone said with a smirk.

              “Did I stutter, brat? Make it play.”

              Simone had other shows to catch up on, but the possibility of having someone to share her insane ships and theories with was too tempting. She played the first episode. “It’s almost ten o’clock right now, so I’ll have to go to sleep soon—”

              “Quiet, brat,” he said, as the show started.

 

 

 

### Levi

 

 

 

              Levi jerked awake. Confusion overwhelmed him for a moment as he looked around at the dark, unfamiliar room and made to rise, but stopped abruptly when he felt a weight not his own on his lap. He looked down at the woman from a world he thought he’d dreamed.

              _Simone,_ he thought as he peered down at her bronze face, unsure of what to do next. The last several hours had felt surreal; he had never had so much time to _do_ things—things that didn’t contribute to the survival of himself, his friends or humanity. He’d basically shat away a whole day, accomplishing nothing of consequence.

              Yet, looking down on her face as light from the “TV” flashed, he didn’t feel like it had been shit.

              He mulled over the soft, warm feelings that touched him, though he’d forgotten their names a long time ago. The more this shitty fat ass talked, the more distinct these stupid feelings became. When he had opened his eyes to her strained expression, just as he’d been considering what a shitty ending being killed by fucking _water_ was, the feelings had been as strong as the current that had pulled him under; not to mention, one solid notion filling in his mind: _beautiful._ When had he ever used that word? To describe some exceptional cleansing chemical? He tried again to chase it out of his mind.

              She had not shown disgust or pity when listening to his shitty life, which he had expected from her. She’d seemed too cheerful to have had any hardships befall her, but he was starting think he was wrong. In any case, he found her easy to talk to.

              _Her company is not so shitty._

              A spiral of her hair dangled haphazardly into her slightly open mouth and he pinched it away. He recalled the instances during their outing when she’d tried to point out people of color for him; none of them quite gave the impression that his first sight of her did. Every time he looked at her for too long, he felt the same thing: the urge to touch her and a distracting heat that he didn’t want to recall the name of. It plagued him now, feeding off the other stupid feelings as he examined her peaceful face… her t-shirt hanging off her plump body. . . generously curved hips. . . thick, shapely thighs. . ..

              The annoying heat intensified as he appraised her figure. She sleepily rolled to face his body and he caught a glimpse of her fat ass trying to escape her shorts again. He turned away immediately, only to see that her face had turned and her lips were closer to his body than before. As he fixated on her inviting pout, the heat sparked a fire and he realized its name: _desire._

              _Shit, what is wrong with me?_ He had not felt desire this intense since he’d joined the Survey Corps many years ago. He did not care to be eaten by a titan because he was too horny to focus. _Is it because she saved me? Oh, god, it’s happening,_ he thought miserably; he’d lived in fear of Mikasa’s bizarre obsession with Eren being a hereditary mental illness since he’d heard how it started. _Of all the shitty people—her? Here!? I can’t let this shit win. I WILL NOT follow her around like a fucking body slave._ He calmed himself and tried to think reasonably. _It’s just shitty attraction. Its normal, she doesn’t look bad, so this is normal. I’ve only known her one damned day, anyway. She’d think I was crazy . . . but she might not,_ he hesitated and remembered how easily she’d accepted his abrasive personality. _What if she . . . cared for me?_ He shook his head at the idea. _Stop it, you sick bastard, it’s the illness talking! That’s probably how Mikasa rationalizes her insanity. You’ve just been shitting around for too long, Levi, sexual feelings were bound to crop up eventually; you’re human, after all. You’ll just get rid of these shitty urges while she’s gone._ He inwardly shuddered at the prospect of making himself filthy. _It has to be done, damn it._

              He was resolved, but animal urges didn’t explain the fluttering sensations in the pit of his stomach when he talked to her. Or the same feelings when they’d been watching the TV together. It definitely didn’t explain the dislike he had felt for the agent who’d given her his card. Brown, he’d said his name was. A vision of crushing his shitty face with a kick gave Levi mild satisfaction, for some reason.

              He let his eyes drift back to her face. She seemed to be grinning lazily and mumbling in her dreams. “. . . oh my. . . sorry, sir. . . I didn’t mean. . . spank me? . . . no, wait . . . uhn! . . . uhm. . .  h-heichou . . .mmm . . .”

              _What a swell idea, Levi—listen to the perverted dreams of the woman who’s triggering your fall into madness. Fucking brilliant._ He reached out his hand and hesitated before gently lifting her head so he could scoot away. Rising, he glanced at the time on her phone. 5:38 AM. It seemed he had slept twice as much as he usually did. He heard a quiet chuckle and looked back down at Simone; aside from the stress this damned woman was putting on him, he felt rejuvenated. But he also had nothing to do. She moaned lowly, still sleeping. _I guess I won’t be waiting until she’s gone,_ he thought heavily and walked towards his room.

 

 


	4. 4-8.1

## (4)

 

 

              Simone scribbled away at her desk, already halfway through the steep pile of paper that had sat there when she’d entered her office. As she logged the company’s psychology-related happenings for the week, her mind drifted to Levi’s strange behavior this morning. While explaining how the washing machines and dryer worked, he’d seemed reluctant to look her at her. _Did I poot on him in my sleep?_ she pondered, putting a coil of her hair back into the ponytail. _How do I even apologize for that . . ._

              She finished her work and began gathering her things to leave for lunch when her friends Chaquita and Jamie walked into her office.

              “I told you delinquents not to abuse the passes I gave you,” Simone greeted them.

              “The door dude likes us ‘cause we ask about his kids, so we do what we want,” said Jamie.

              “Apparently you do, too, chick. Why didn’t you show up last night!?” Chaquita asked, obviously annoyed.

              Simone’s expression was blank for a moment and then it dawned on her. “Damn it! I’m sorry guys—I forgot about going out last night! My mind has been a little fuzzed out since yesterday. Some stuff happened and they need me and the other psychologists more than normal.”

              “And just what do they have you doin’ that requires you to forget about your friends?” Chaquita asked directly, her pretty brown face clearly doubtful. Simone looked at her friends while deciding whether or not she should spill all the beans on her short, hot guest. Chaquita’s slim figure was poised nonchalantly against the wall and Jamie had plopped his muscular tanned body into one of the armchairs. Chaquita was dressed as if she were on a lunch break from her corporate job, too; Jamie was dressed casually in a graphic tee and cargo jeans.

              “There are these people who we’re testing some new steroids we’re developing on, and they need round-the-clock monitoring. To make sure they’re not losing it from the drugs. It was really sudden, buuuut, I’m monitoring one of them at my apartment to see how he does in real life.”

              Chaquita looked at her and raised an eyebrow. Jamie accepted this explanation. “Girl or guy?”

              “Guy.”

              “So you hittin’ that?” Jamie asked with a mischievous smirk.

              “Oh my god, Jamie, really?” Simone said, almost laughing. “I said he is a _test subject_.”

              “But are _you_ testing _his_ subject, though?”

              Chaquita and Simone laughed at his ridiculousness. “Are we going to lunch or what?”

              “Calm your tits, I brought it to you.” Chaquita pulled a plastic bag from Simone’s favorite sandwich shop out of her purse.

              “Ugh, I love you, Keda.” Simone said, grabbing it and setting out the food on her desk.

              “It was a group effort, though,” said Jamie.

              “I love you, too, James,” she added in sing-song.

              “Prove it,” Chaquita demanded. “Come out tonight to make up for your rudeness last night.”

              “You know I can’t say no when my love for my roll dawgs is in question.”

              Chaquita nodded with satisfaction while Simone dug gratefully into her meal. They slipped into light conversation and whiled away what was left of their lunch hour. Chaquita was still doing well as a CPA; math came naturally to her and she enjoyed it. Jamie, an ex-soldier, busied himself as a trainer. He didn’t need much work, having gotten out of the Army with full benefits and a constant check for injuries he’d received while deployed.

              They wandered onto the subject of NASA and how there was a rumor going around that they’d been looking for lost machinery around town.

              “I bet they lost an AI robot,” offered Jamie sagely.

              “Or it could be a super weapon was stolen,” Chaquita said.

              “Or both!” Jamie said, as if he’d solved it. “It’s about to go down, Terminator style.”

              “I doubt it,” Simone said with a chuckle. She didn’t want to tell them that NASA had probably created a wormhole to a whole other world with man-eating giants.

              Just as Chaquita was readying to leave, a knock on the door interrupted their farewells.

              “Hey, I need to see you in the gym,” Claire said with a meaningful look.

              Simone looked at her friends as they walked towards the door. “Until tonight, y’all.”

              “We’ll see,” Chaquita said liltingly and smiled with excitement.

 

 

 

              “So their blood tests are good. Their immunities to disease are basically identical to ours,” James said to Claire, Simone and Ferric. “Eren’s samples were exceedingly strange, though.”

              “Yeah,” chimed in Everett. “He has WAY too many stem cells for a guy his age. It was kinda hard to get a look at his spinal fluid because the stuff kept dissolving into thin air.”

              “When we finally examined it, the cellular structure of it resembled a plant. Well—a very mobile, resilient and powerful plant,” explained James. “Maybe if I said it was similar to a hybrid between a plant and beast, it would give you a better concept?”

              “That’s fine, I think we all get it,” Claire said, waving him on.

              “Anyway,” Everett continued, “Mikasa and Levi are a bit odd, too. Their performance tests _look_ like they’re on steroids, but no drugs showed up in their blood. And they’ve got some type of chemical in their bodies that looks like adrenaline, but it has no bad side effects at all.”

              “So it’s just floating around outside the glands?” asked Ferric.

              “Pretty much,” Everett answered.

“Trippy,” Ferric muttered.

              “Well, see if you can figure out a bit more about Eren’s nature,” said Claire, pointing at James and Everett. “Get a specialist to look at the samples.”

              “Hey, I was thinking y’all, we should probably get a look at how their equipment works and see if we can enhance it,” Simone piped up.

              “Good idea,” said Claire with a nod.

              “Yeah, Hange was talking about improving their gear, but I figured it was just rambling. They were kinda spaced out at the time,” said Ferric.

              “Is Hange okay?” asked Claire.

              “Oh, yeah, they’re fine. Hange and Moblit just ate some deserts they weren’t familiar with.”

              Simone wondered what Ferric had been giving them.

              “Halloween would be the best time to do it. People would just assume their equipment was a costume!” said Everett.

              “It’s in a couple of weeks—the sooner the better,” said Claire.

              “Tweaking their gear is good, but how are they gonna get back home to use it?” asked Everett.

              Simone and Ferric shrugged while Claire said “Beats me.”

              “We could start by investigating the area that they entered our world,” suggested James.

              There was a low chatter of general agreement.

              Claire’s seemed to remember something. “On a lighter note, how about taking them out? Like to the tech museum and then to the beach. I was going with my family this weekend, and those guys seem so underexposed. Anybody?”

              “I think it’s a great idea,” Everett. “My girlfriend has been begging me to take her somewhere lately.” Ferric and James seemed willing enough.

              Simone hummed in agreement. _Nobody needs to know you almost drowned Levi. Keep it on the down low. Just like the dream of him spanking you into a moist frenzy._ Simone scolded herself for recollecting the dream in the middle of a work conversation. Though, when she thought about how he’d admired how nice and red her “fat ass” had become, she couldn’t fight the blush and quiet chuckle that escaped her. Her colleagues turned to her with questioning expressions.

              “Oh . . . I-I was thinking about the eczema medicine we told that NASA dude about. Should we be pretending to make that?”

              “Why did you have to give something so specific in the first place?” Claire asked with a hint of panic.

              “Well, I’m sorry boss, but you were dying out there! I was just trying to help us not get shot.”

              Claire sighed, “It _was_ a good save. And not a bad idea for the future.” Claire paused to shake her head as Simone tipped an invisible hat. “I do think we could at least put something together for appearances’ sake.”

              “Do you still have that guy’s card?” asked Everett.

              “Mr. Clean?” she asked, making Ferric snicker at her nickname lowly. “I think it’s in my bag—why?”

              “You could be a mole! Get info on how NASA is doing with the search and how they brought people from another world to ours,” said Ferric.

              “What if he decides to get romantic, pops up with roses and sees Levi? Also, no.” Simone didn’t need any complications in her personal life. Having a surly alien man in her home was enough; she didn’t want her life turning into a reverse-harem anime. _Hmm. Threesome with Levi and Mr. Clean . . ._ She reprimanded herself once more but sighed wistfully at the titillating images in her mind. Maybe a harem wouldn’t be that bad.

 

 

 

              Simone dropped her purse and bag of men’s beach wear by her front door, noting it had been unlocked, and slowly took in her kitchen and living room. The space looked cleaner than when she’d left and smelled oddly of chemicals and citrus. She peeked into her bedroom: no Levi. She checked his room: no Levi. She looked in the closets: no Levi. She felt panic creeping in: still no Levi.

              After searching the house thoroughly, she eased tensely onto her bed and stared at her phone. _Do I put out a missing person’s report? No, he’s basically an illegal immigrant. Do I call Claire? Hmm . . . find more options. Ask my neighbors? No, they don’t care. Wait for him to come back like a stray cat? Waft tea steam out the window??_ She sat with eyes wide, brow furrowed and a hand cupping her mouth, so absorbed that she didn’t notice Levi walk silently through the front door and watch her little freak-out.

              “Oi, if you’re wondering what to do for constipation, you’ll need prune juice,” he said, breaking through her frantic bubble.

              “Where were you?? I was starting to think you were kidnapped or something!”

              “Tch. That’s a bit much; you’ve only been here five minutes,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame.

              “How would you know? You just came in!” Simone said with narrowed eyes.

              “I was on the roof.”

              “With your _3D gear_??” Simone asked, immediately wondering who saw.

              “With basic movement skills and a nifty innovation called stairs.”

              Simone pursed her lips against his sarcasm and went to retrieve her bag. “Here,” she said holding a smartphone out to him. “Claire has given you and the rest of the Survey Corps one. Their numbers are already in there, along with Claire, Everett, James, Ferric and mine. Next time you take a stroll to where ever the hell, shoot me a text.”

              “What are you, my wife?” he said, familiarizing himself with the phone.

              “You should be so lucky,” she said as she went into the bathroom.

              After exiting the shower, she wiped the steam from the bathroom mirror and eyed herself. She hummed pensively and walked towards her closet, considering what to wear. As she stood amongst her sizeable clothing collection, Levi walked in behind her and observed it for himself.

              “Why do you have so many clothes?” he asked.

              “Fashion is expressive, and I have a lot to share,” she answered, rifling through her wardrobe and picking out a few things.

              “Too much, apparently.”

              “I would like your opinion on somethings, since you’re judging.”

              “Well, first of all, your cleaning habits could be better. Secondly, the—”

              “I meant clothes, prick,” she said, pushing him playfully out and slamming the door.

              Several outfits later, Simone left the closet and twirled slowly. “Okay, what’s wrong with this one?”

              Levi was leaned on her bed with a fist supporting his deadpanned face, but rose as she stood in front of him. She watched him appraise the black sparkle of the glittery dress that hugged her body from torso to shin but left her arms bare, save for the off-shoulder straps on each side. Simone situated the sweetheart neckline and mumbled “Gotta make sure this strapless bra will hold . . .” while wiggling in the mirror.

              “Not bad,” he said with nod.

              “Whaaat? But you’ve had something to say about everything I put on for the past hour!”

              “The clothes you were picking didn’t match your explanation of ‘clubbing’,” he looked away as she adjusted her breasts. “You said ‘irresistible sex appeal, but not only attractive to scumbags; fancy, but not so formal that you could attend some shit for work; sweet looking, but not a virginal princess; something that would make men drool like lust-stricken school boys on the cusp of puberty’,” he finished reciting her requirements. “That is it.”

              “But you’re not drooling, Levi.”

              “Tch, I’m not getting myself filthy,” he huffed.

              “Too refined to get horny, huh! Levi, the Noble,” she said in a simper and waggled her pinky in the air.

              “Did you trade your brain for shit? Don’t call me a noble. Pompous ass wipes, all of them.”

              “Hm. I guess that’s one thing our worlds have in common,” Simone said, walking into the bathroom.

              She began to brush a light layer of foundation on and Levi watched. “I take it you’re gussying up to mate tonight.”

              “Haha! No, not tonight. I just want to dance.”

              “Then why the makeup?”

              Simone noted that he was familiar with it. _I guess women gotta be on fleek in every universe._ “I like to spruce myself up sometimes, and, since I’m going out, it might as well be tonight. This is pretty much the female club ritual.”

              “There’s nothing wrong with your face, though.”

              “I guess I do it more for the eyeshadow than anything else. And besides, mating isn’t _absolutely_ out of the question. It all depends.”

              “It’s not improper here?”

              “There are those who think so,” she said, while brushing color onto her eyelids. “After all, women just got real rights fairly recently; before then, our worth depended solely on how well we married. And men usually wanted their wives to be untouched by the same debauchery they reveled in. Lots of people still think that way. Some may consider me ‘improper’. Or prudish. Or slutty. It could go either way.”

              “Does it bother you?”

              “Hell no. I can’t please everyone—and even if I could, where would that leave me? As long as I can live with my own decisions, I’m happy.”

              Levi’s eyes seemed to soften. “I agree.”

              Their eyes met for a long moment, then Simone looked back to the mirror.

              “Anyway, you’ve never been to a night club?” Levi shook his head. “So you can’t dance?” He said nothing. As she topped her eyeliner back up, an interesting idea popped into her head. “You should come with me!”

              “Why?”

              “To live! People watch! Get laid!” Simone said. “And I want to see you in club clothes.”

              “Fine, shitty fat ass. But I’m not gonna dance or any stupid shit like that,” he said to Simone’s giddy grin.

 

 

 

              Levi leaned against the bar and readjusted the black vest over his white button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He crossed one grey-clad leg over the other and sipped a bit from the drink Simone had ordered for him, called a “Hot Damn”, feeling it was aptly named. His face felt strangely exposed since Simone had put something stiff in his hair then combed it backward and to the side.  He looked over the different people gyrating and milling about as the lights flashed in the dimly lit lounge. Another woman, this time a redhead, blocked his view as she sauntered up to him with coy smile. She was pretty. She opened her mouth to speak and he cut her off with a swift “No.” She pouted and walked off. He sipped again as he people watched, his eyes occasionally flickering back in Simone’s direction.

              On the dance floor, Simone was being harassed by Jamie. “I’m just sayin’, there’s nothing wrong with a lil’ taste, man!”

              “Jamie, no! I’m not going to ‘take him to pound town’, let him ‘motorboat’ me, or ‘show me what dat mouf do’. And besides, I don’t think he’s very sexually active,” she insisted as she sipped from her brightly colored drink.

              “So you’ve thought about it!?!” Jamie shouted, pointing at her.

              Chaquita laughed when Simone punched at him. “Shut up! I don’t want to seem like a rapey pervert!”

              “But you _are_ a pervert!” he said as she pinched him repeatedly. “That’s why we’re friends.”

              A slender girl danced up to Jamie and he gladly let himself be pulled away. Simone started to dance, but it seemed Chaquita had other ideas. “Where are we going?” Simone asked as Chaquita towed her quickly towards the stairs.

              “Somewhere quieter,” as they entered a room on the second floor. This particular room was empty, but still had a view of the dancefloor. Simone peered over the balcony, checking that she could still see Levi. Chaquita plopped her slim yet busty figure down onto a high-backed chair and gestured for Simone to take the one nearest it. Chaquita brushed her long straight hair back from her dark mahogany face and said “Welcome to the Tea Room. Now spill it! Who is that guy, _really_?”

              “I told you—”

              “Lies and libel! Jamie’s blonde ass will believe anything, but I’m not buyin’ that “test subject” front; they pay people to monitor experimental drugs. And you certainly don’t bring a lab rat to the club! So! Who is this surly ‘Levi’ that likes to stare at you?

              Simone gave up inside. She loved talking to her BFF too much to keep this from her. “If he stares at me its only because I was the first black person he’d ever seen.”

              Chaquita’s face was shocked and confused. Simone laid it all bare for her: who he and his comrades were, how they got here, how NASA was looking for them, and everything else.

              “So _he_ and _his friends_ are the lost items NASA was looking for? And they try to kill the giants that eat their asses?! No wonder he looks like he’s fresh out of fucks to give.”

              “Yeah. They have barely any technology there, and he’s told me some wild stuff. But under that armor of stone-faced bluntness and shit jokes, he’s actually okay. Everything he says just comes out through a filter of dickishness,” Simone said with a small smile as she looked down at him.

              Chaquita looked at her friend and grinned knowingly. “He’s easy on the eyes, too, huh?”

              “God, yes. And you can’t tell, but he is _ripped_. Ugh, so sarcastic and stupid hot and short and sexy and rude.” She hadn’t meant to say the last sentence out loud.

              “You like him.”

              “No I don’t! I just want to . . . let him work out some of his frustrations on me. Hard.” she smiled naughtily. “But I really don’t think that’s an option. He hasn’t expressed any sexual interest in me, so I don’t want to force it. He might be gay; I’d definitely love to see that in action. Or he might just be asexual,” Simone finished longingly.

              “Well, I’d love to know what has got him so non-sexually interested in you after only two days. ‘Cuz he legit looks at you at least once a minute,” Chaquita said.

              “I am pretty much his guide in a foreign world. I would keep an eye on me, too.”

              “He’s got your number and you’ve got his, Simone. I’m sure it wouldn’t be too hard to find each other. Anyway, I don’t think it’s that or your exoticism. I think it’s ‘cuz you’re preeeettyyyyy,” Chaquita teased. “On the inside, too. Regardless, he’s curvin’ the life out of every person in a two-foot radius.”

              “I did say he was a dick.”

              “Maybe he’s also the right amount of 'okay' to make you want to keep him. Unlike every other guy you’ve dated a dumped.”

              “Why? He’ll eventually have to leave. He’s a soldier with a mission; they all are.”

              “But if the mission is completed, though?” Chaquita asked, looking her friend in the eye.

              Just then, a tall man with sparkling blue eyes and teeth walked into their little space and held out a hand to Simone. “Hello, I’m Aiden. What’s your name?”

              Simone smiled politely and took Aiden’s hand. “I’m Simone. Can I help you?”

              “Yes, you could, actually. I was stricken by your beauty downstairs and I had to come and ask you to dance.”

              Simone looked to her cohort and Chaquita shooed her away. “We’ll continue this later,” Chaquita assured her.

              Simone went with Aiden back downstairs into a corner of the dancefloor and they began to talk as they moved. The music beat through Simone as she loosened up and caught the rhythm; she was a good dancer when relaxed. She had already bopped with a few guys that night and had several drinks, but they’d all moved on, as this handsome stranger soon would. It was all fun and games, meeting people, dancing and letting them leave without causing any fuss in each other’s lives. Simone did not want any fuss. She definitely did not want anything permanent. Permanence is problematic. Permanence is painful. No one she had met had inspired her to put in the amount of work that permanence took.

              As she danced close to Aiden, her mind floated freely and rested on what Chaquita had been saying. Levi asked questions, but she never felt scrutinized from them. She considered her experiences inconsequential compared to his, but he had not responded that way. He just accepted and understood. Simone suspected this was his normal way, but it was still nice. She’d felt very comfortable with him since he’d been living with her. Eventually, though, the charming newness of him would fade and be replaced by annoyance, or boredom, or something else that would make it easy, even relieving, to see him go.

              While she’d turned over her thoughts, Aiden had pressed himself against her and placed his hands on her hips. Now he slid them down to her buttocks, and Simone put them back on her waist with a solid, “Not so fast, mister.”

              Almost immediately he tried to grasp her bottom again, rougher this time, saying, “It’s fine, baby.” Simone stepped away from him and searched for a familiar face, but he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her back towards him saying, “Don’t leave, we were just starting to have fun.” He grasped at her breast crudely, filling her with fear, panic, and anger.

              “I said, NO!” She grabbed the thumb of his hand that gripped her arm and twisted it sharply until he was kneeling in front of her in pain, then pushed him roughly away onto the club floor. She barreled into the crowd and fought her way through the writhing bodies as she tried to get back to the brighter lights, her friends, safety. Her eyes shot towards Levi and alarm ripped through her when she didn’t see him in his spot. _Great, now I have to find him, after this shit. I hope he hasn’t—_

              Suddenly, she was jerked backwards by both arms against a hard body. “Come back here, you black bitch,” Aiden hissed raggedly in her ear and started pulling up her dress. “You’re gonna pay for that.”

              Panic and fear left Simone as the anger inside her doubled into violent rage. “My momma,” she stomped on his foot and he released her, “ain’t raise,” she turned and drove a knee deep into his groin and he buckled, “NO BITCHES!!” she roared, elbowed him squarely in the nose and he collapsed backward. She stared down at him to make sure he was properly incapacitated this time and looked up to see Levi doing the same. The people surrounding them stood back in a hush. Simone realized what it must’ve looked like to them.

              Simone tugged Levi out of his surprised stillness by his hand. “Let’s go,” Simone said and hurried away from the bloody scene.

 

 

## (5)

 

 

              Simone burst through her door and began to undress as she walked toward her room. She bustled into her closet, hastily shedding the dress and her underwear in favor of her lounge shorts and a camisole as Levi calmly closed the front door. She reentered the kitchen and Levi’s eyes trailed her as she retrieved a large bottle of spiced rum from the cabinet then carried it to the couch.

              Levi shrugged out of his vest and sat beside her as she browsed through the media on the now lit TV screen. She settled on a subtitled gag anime and took a hearty swig of the brown drink, which scorched down her throat, then silently tilted the bottle in his direction. Matching her draught, he broke the silence with “So, you fucked him up nicely.”

              “He deserved it,” Simone said, her face still irate from them molestation that had been attempted on her.

              “I agree, but I thought you were trying to ‘get laid’.”

              She took another gulp. “Not like that! I don’t wanna give my goodies to some entitled ass who’d just as soon take ‘em. That don’t make for a good time. Why would I let him _inside_ my sugar walls if he couldn’t respect me _outside_ ‘em? My body, my terms.” she said, realizing she’d reverted to a country drawl.

              “Very reasonable policy,” he said a sipped from the bottle as the TV chattered in front of them. “This is strong shit.”

              “Levi, you ever done that ta’ someone? Tried ta’ force yourself on ‘em?” Simone asked, looking at him.

              “No,” he stared back at her. “I heard it done to my mother enough to recognize how vile it was.”

              Simone’s angry face softened a little and she let out a breath. “That sucks.”

              “No shit. I’d recommend it as resiliency training in children if not for the little ‘traumatic experience’ side effect.” He took another drink. “She never fought back like you did. I was mistaken to think you needed my help, brat.”

              Simone chuckled. “I appreciate the sentiment, Levi. But a girl’s gotta fend fa’ herself.”

              “I didn’t think you had that kind of brutality in you. You’re so . . . light-hearted.”

              Simone smiled sardonically and sipped. “No one eva’ does.”

              “How did you get it?”

              “Whaddaya mean?”

              “You looked like you would’ve killed him if you had to. You don’t get that type of resolution without pressure. So, what was yours?”

              Simone snorted and stared at her folded legs. “My momma always said ‘Don’ go looking for trouble, baby, ‘cause its already looking for you.’ I thought that was just something she said to get me to be good. An’ I was. A good girl. But then I lived a lil’ and saw what she meant: the world doesn’t care if you’re a good girl. Even doing all the right things and being in all the safe places, bad things can happen to ya’. If you wanna be happy, you can’t be afraid to be bad, too.” She sighed and sipped. “I guess you could say the anger I felt knowing someone might try to take one of my most intimate, precious parts and use it like a disposable jizz sock was what did it. That they felt like they could an’ should make me—a _feeling_ , _thinking_ person—their play thing. That something like that had happened and _would_ happen to so many people.” Levi watched her hands clutch into shaking balls. “I should’ve hit his ass harder.”

              Levi reached out and placed his hand on hers. “Any harder and he would probably be shitting his nose out and breathing through his balls.”

              Simone couldn’t help the raucous laughter that rose out of her at his words. She laughed until tears trickled down her cheeks and she relaxed. “You feel very strongly about this, considering your line of work.”

              “I know. I’ve had to counsel a lot people who think rape is okay or are mistaken about what it is. I try to help ‘em grow past that and understand what their actions may do to the person they violate. I’ve also seen victims of it, an’ I see how horribly it affects most of ‘em. But then there’re the people who know what it is an’ use it like a weapon. Which brings me ta’ my next point: sometimes the world is a betta’ place without some people,” she finished in her lilting accent.

              Levi nodded.

              “But I wanna forget about that shit right now. I was able to keep my sexual livelihood for another day, I’m not traumatized, an’ I’m grateful.” She rested her head on his lap and took another swallow. “May I?” she asked too late.

              Levi responded with a non-committal grunt but gave no sign of wanting her to move. As the TV tried to beat back the thick tension in the room, she felt the alcohol working, warming her body and uninhibiting her mind. “Levi, I’m sorry for pootin’ on you in my sleep last night.” Apparently it was loosening her tongue, too.

              “What drunken nonsense are you spewing, shitty fat ass?”

              “This morning you were actin’ strange, so I assumed—”

              “You didn’t do that, idiot.”

              “Then what was wrong?

              He deliberated for a moment. “You were talking about shit in your sleep, nosy brat. You’re a bit of a deviant, huh?”

              Simone’s eyes rounded with embarrassed surprise. _He’s on to me!_ “What did I say?”

              “That you like to have your ass smacked,” he said staring intently at the television.

              She felt a hot tingle between her legs from hearing him say it. _Would you, please?_ “You think that’s deviant? That’s entry-level kink.”

              “Oh? So once you trust your lover, you like them to do . . . abrasive things? Like hair pulling?” he said, taking a single tress of her hair wrapping it around his finger until she felt the slightest tension. _Is he teasing—._ “Having your hands tied?” _Yaaaassss talk dirty to me._ “A little biting?” _Only if you’re nasty, Mr. Ackerman._ “And being fucked roughly?” _Jesus, kill the visual before I ruin these shorts._ He held her coil of hair taut for a moment longer then let it pop back into place. “Hm?”

              Simone tucked the vivid images in her head back into the After-Hours section of her mind and answered “Sometimes,” lightly. _Can’t let the thirst show._ “I didn’t think you could say thangs like that.”

              “I’m a soldier, not a monk. I’ve had my share of erotic encounters.”

              Simone’s heart burst with joy and she heard angels singing in the distance. _Can confirm, he does sex!!! But with whom?_ She managed to keep a straight face and say, “‘The Conquests of Captain Ackerman’. I’d read that novel.” _And be your wanton hussy._ “I’m not a beginner, myself. In some areas, at least.”

              Levi was silent for a moment. “Why are you so honest with me? You’ve only known me two damn days.”

              Simone looked at the bottle of rum. “I guess it’s becaaaause–Your sarcasm is fun an’ you’re not offended by mine. You haven’t tried to poke me an’ didn’t get frisky when I fell asleep on ya last night. You’re a good listener. And you can’t tell me that you’re not a softie under that thick casing of Bad-Ass. Other things, too. I don’t know if I’m being presumptuous or naïve, but I like you, Levi. I’m just. . . comfortable around you,” she finished with a shrug.

              “I,” Levi hesitated, “like you, too, Simone.”

              “Good gat damn! You remember my name?!” Simone joked, raising up and looking at him with wide eyes. “Senpai noticed me!!”

              “Tch,” Levi said disdainfully and pressed her back onto his lap. “Quiet you noisy ass brat. Ruining what might’ve been some deep shit.”

              She smirked silently and grabbed the folded blanket off the back of the couch.

              “Are you going to pass out from the drink?” he asked.

              “Nah, I’m not drunk.”

              “Well you’re talking like you are. And you sound different.”

              “That’s jus’ my charmin’ accent, hun. I’m a big girl, I can handle my liquor. Have _you_ been drunk confessing to me?”

              “Of course not.”

              “Good. Cuz I’m gonna remember that you pulled my hair an’ asked if I like it rough.”

 

 

## (6)

 

 

              “Umm! Huuhhhhhnnn,” Simone moaned with teeth bared and eyes closed as she was entered from behind. Her fleshy body curved in ecstasy from the steady pounding of her paramour. Her head was yanked back and turned slightly so she saw the glistening abdomen of her mate and his hand digging eagerly into her hip.

              “Ah, is that rough enough for you? Or should I fuck you until you scream, Simone?” Levi hissed brusquely in her ear, sending shivers through her thick body.

              “Oh, Levi! You’re gonna make me—”

 

              “Come on, brat, unless you want to live with this shit slinging ‘chimp’, you should keep up.”

              Simone blinked and looked at Levi’s frowning face as he nudged her out of her enthralling daydream. Behind him the teens of their group and Hange were eagerly watching the various creatures as Claire’s children explained and walked them through the room. Bringing up the rear of their excited queue were Moblit, Erwin, Elizabeth—Everett’s girlfriend—and Simone’s coworkers; Levi stood in front of her expectantly. “Well? Or are you too busy with your pressing task of staring at nothing?”

              She bit back an amused smile and let him lead her to the group. Hastily, she looked down to hide any blush forming as an after effect of her very sexually active imagination.

              Sasha could be heard inquiring about how each animal tasted. Simone figured lunch was soon approaching; they’d already been to the tech museum today, where the teenage corps members and Hange were visibly fascinated by the innovations, big and small. Hange had been incessantly telling Moblit to take notes and Armin seemed to be committing everything to memory. Now, in the zoo, they were more leisurely—if one could call rabid excitement leisurely. In the museum and here, the stirring crowd regarded their group with quizzical looks or passing amusement. Simone didn’t blame them, anyone over the age of ten mesmerized by a lava lamp or penguin had to be a rare find. Even Levi had petted the animals as he commented on how “filthy” they were.

              Everett’s girlfriend didn’t seem too shocked at their reactions as she stuck to his arm, though; Everett had told her that they were on a therapy-related field trip for schizophrenic trauma survivors.

              “We’re trying to introduce normalcy back into their lives and hopefully draw out their saner sides,” Simone had heard him tell Elizabeth. It was pretty smooth. “I’ve been practicing that for the past day, man,” Everett had whispered nervously to Simone when she’d commended him on it.

              Claire’s three youngest children—Matt, Stephanie, and Rebecca— made the adult’s jobs easy: they led the group around, explained everything, and answered all questions patiently as Claire looked on with a small smile. Simone was impressed; they were all between the ages of 9 and 14. Simone wondered how Claire’s two older girls were if the runts of her litter were this keen. Obviously Claire’s parenting style was a softer adaptation of her managerial methods.

              Simone wondered what it might feel like to be a “proud parent”, but not too much. Child bearing was relatively low on her to-do list of life; almost as low as marriage. Why would they be any higher? She saw no viable way to continue her career without making her progeny feel unloved. It’s not like she had or wanted a significant other—what if she were to meet an untimely demise? Sure, she still had relatives in her hometown, but, if her baby was anything like herself, she did not want it to grow up there. No, it would be downright irresponsible to welcome a child into this world without proper preparation and careful thought. As she stared into the water of the aquarium, she wondered whom would ever be a good enough mate for simple procreation, never mind an actual father. _“It would be kinda cool to have a Mini-Me, though . . .”_

              While Simone appreciated the shimmering schools of fish and manta rays gliding serenely, another reflection came into focus beside her own. A tall, bald, tan reflection.

              “You never called me about that eczema medicine, Miss Sumpter,” Mr. Clean said and stepped beside her.

              _Oh shit._ “I also never gave you last my name, Mr. Brown.” _Did he find out about those guys? Or is he just after me? Am I gonna have to flirt my way out of this? Definitely doomed._

              “Hm. Fair enough,” he said with a coy smile, eyeing her short green dress. “That’s an interesting group you’re out with today.”

              “Yes, most of them are schizophrenic. We’re hoping this confidence-building exercise will help with their psychoses.” _Thank God they’re dressed like normal people!_ Simone hesitated then eased out, “But you can’t be here for them. Are you . . . stalking me, Mr. Brown?”

              “Isn’t that a little presumptuous of you?”

“Probably. But so is harassment,” Simone shrugged.

              “I’m not stalking you, I’m enjoying the scenery.”

              Simone was unsure that he meant the wildlife. “Are you new around here?”

              “You could say that. I spend most of my time at the NASA base. Right now, I’m just taking a break from the norm,” he said, sliding his hands into his khaki linen pants.

              _Riiiiiiight._ “Sounds like you’re a workaholic. It suits you. Did you ever find that lost stuff?”

              He rocked on his heels as he contemplated the answer. “It seems to be eluding us.”

              She eyed his thick arms as he moved. His patterned V-neck clung alluringly to his heavily muscled body and she noted his impressive height. Simone wondered how much taller than her five-foot nine-inches he stood. “Hope it’s not anything dangerous. I don’t want to get blown up by some missing superweapon because you were on vacation,” she said.

              His lips pulled back into an amused smile and she imagined his teeth sparkled. “You don’t have to worry your pretty head, Miss Sumpter,” he said and bent closer to her briefly. “We have it well in hand.”

              _I’d like to have your naked body well in hand, Mr. Clean._ “I’m sure.” Simone looked around and discovered her group had moved on without her. _That’s just as well, the less Mr. Clean sees of them the better._

              “Where are you from?” Mr. Clean asked.

              “Do I not seem like a California native?”

              “I’m good with voices and yours is a bit . . . southern, now that I’m listening to you.”

              “I’m sure you know already. You found my name without having to ask. You don’t seem like the type to do half-ass research.”

              He chuckled and dropped his shoulders. “You got me. I know you’re from Mississippi.”

              “Mr. Brown—”

              “Call me Jason, please.”

              “ _Jason_ —it’s almost like you’re trying to get to know me.”

              “I am, Miss Sumpter. I thought I’d made it clear with my “A+” research of you.” He paused. “Aren’t you going to tell me to call you ‘Simone’?”

              “Nope. It keeps the atmosphere a lil’ formal. You are a government official, after all.”

              “What if the situation were more casual? Like a lunch da—”

              Before Mr. Clean could finish his sentence, Levi appeared at her shoulder. “It’s time to go,” he took her hand and led her hastily away from Mr. Clean. “We’re going to miss our ride looking for you, shitty fat ass.”

              Simone looked back to the dumbfounded man as he shrank from view. “I hope you enjoy your vacation!” she called as Levi towed her around the corner and out of the aquarium area.

              Even after their pace slowed, he kept a firm grip on her hand until they exited the zoo and neared their gaggle of companions. “Your timing was awesome, Levi. I think he was just about to ask me on a date,” she said to his back as the light rail approached.

              Levi grunted indistinctly and kept his face forward as he tramped onto the vehicle.

              During lunch the Survey corps tasted hamburgers for the first time and were immediately hooked. Simone watched them wolf down the meaty morsels with their fries and wondered how terrible life would be without meat aplenty. Sasha seemed to sympathize; she was shedding actual tears and blubbering unintelligibly through a mouthful of her bacon and beef half-pounder. Even Mikasa’s deadpanned face was host to the slightest traces of pleasure at the meal.

              Now they walked back towards the light rail stop, taking in the sunlight and sounds of the city. Other crowds of people churned around them on their way to similar activities as Simone told the other psychologists about her encounter with Mr. Clean.

              “He said he was on vacation, basically,” she said to them.

              “What else did he say?” asked Claire with an intense expression.

              “I asked him if they’d found what they had been looking for, and he said no.” Simone deliberated on whether or not to tell them her suspicions about him trailing them or not.

              Before she could decide, though, Erwin turned slightly towards them and said discreetly, “Levi thinks that we’re being tailed by a black vehicle behind us.”

              “James was about to turn around and Simone stopped him with a low, “Don’t look at it!”

              “But if they’re onto us we have to do something!” James said.

              “Do you have a bus-sized Bat-Mobile you’re not telling us about, James? Do you have smoke bombs and grappling hooks handy? Does anyone here know Shadow Clone Jutsu? No? Then we’re normal people! Act like it!” Simone hissed ardently while continuing at a relaxed pace.

              “Simone’s right. If we run we look guilty,” chimed in Ferric, who was having no problem keeping it casual. “There’s no way to lose ‘em right now, so we just play it cool.”

              At that, Everett looked around and said urgently, “In here, guys!” and led the whole group through the doors of a large building. They shuffled past another set of doors and beheld a wide open room filled with polka music and people. Elderly people.

              “Everett, what are we doing at a ‘ElderCon’?” asked James, reading a sign nearby.

              Everett paused for a minute and started quietly so his girlfriend couldn’t hear, “When you said we were being followed, I thought if we burst in here and got lost in the crowd, we’d throw them off, in a natural-looking way.”

              “Dude, we’re the only people here without a walking aid or hooked up to machinery,” said Ferric.

              “Just for future reference, this is the total opposite of normal,” said Simone, exasperated.

              “I thought ‘Elder’ was short for Elder Scrolls—you know, the game,” he said, obviously discomfited at the mix up.

              Elizabeth patted him on the arm and said soothingly, “Oh, babe, you’ve got to stop pretending you’re in Assassin’s Creed. It’s getting embarrassing, for both of us.”

              Armin inquired, “People here live this long?”

              “So many wrinkles,” said Connie, touching his face as if to check for creases of his own while Sasha inched slowly toward the refreshment table; Hange had struck up a conversation with the nearest grandpa. A silver haired lady wearing a pantsuit and leaning on a walker cruised by Simone and looked her outfit up and down. “Hmph! Knees out for everybody to gawk at . . . young folks . . . in my day those were for your husband! . . .” she grumbled past. Simone was reminded of her own grandmother and her hands shot up to cover herself.

              “Huh?” Eren wondered aloud at the woman’s little haranguing.

              _We’re gonna miss the rail and have nothing to do but look suspicious in front of Mr. Clean for the next ten minutes,_ Simone thought miserably.

              “We should just go. Somebody help Jean before Sasha eats all their Jell-O,” Claire said, heading for the door with her children in a bee-line behind her.

              “Alright, you idiots, wrap this shit up,” Levi called to the teenagers. “You, too, shitty glasses.” Hange took a piece of paper from the hunched man they had been conversing with and trotted back to the group.

              Elizabeth walked beside Everett and reassured him, despite his marvelous fail. “Don’t worry, Ev, we can use the new costumes I bought for us tonight!”

              Everett’s eyes sparkled and he perked up immediately to ask “the Super Girl and Hulk ones?”

              Simone knew that Eren and Mikasa would be hearing strange things tonight.

 

 

 

              At last, they’d made it to the beach. Simone had slipped out of her green dress in favor a colorful two-piece swim suit and—only after she had let Hange experience the wonder of her coily mane—twisted her hair into a loose top knot. She lay sprawled across the towel she’d placed on the warm sand, letting the sun heat her back while watching Claire and her children teach their wards how to swim. Once they’d finally gotten over their amazement that a body of water this size existed—Armin more astonished than anyone—they’d eased in gradually once they saw Claire’s progenies frolicking in the tide. Erwin was at a disadvantage, but that didn’t seem to stop him from learning a sufficient paddle. Simone was impressed.

              Levi, who—along with Mikasa—had already completed his swim lesson flawlessly, seemed to tire of critiquing his subordinates and walked towards Simone. She devoured every glistening bead of water dripping from his toned body in the afternoon sun and saved the image in her mind for later use.  His mouth was moving as he stood in front of her but all her mind registered was the rising of his oiled chest and the muscles in his arms flexing and working like a finely tuned machine as he gestured in her direction.

              “I’m sorry, what?” she asked when she saw him growing irate.

              “Did one of those monkeys throw shit in your ears? I’m asking if I can sit on your towel so I don’t get too filthy, brat!”

              “Fine, sit your crabby ass down,” she said, rising into a sitting position.

              He dropped down on her left and gazed out at his troop for a while. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen them look like such idiots,” he commented. “I suppose it’s not too shitty of an experience. We probably would’ve died gruesome deaths before seeing anything like this in our world. We probably will anyway, though, if we make it back.”

              “If,” Simone echoed.

              “Aren’t you going to inspire me or some shit?”

              “What would I say? ‘Don’t worry, little Levi, the power of friendship will never be defeated by some man-eating monstrosities! Who cares if humans are no longer at the top of the food chain, don’t stop believing!’” She paused and watched Hange prod a washed-up jellyfish against Moblit’s pleas to the contrary. “I’m not about to give you some bull-shit pep talk. Your job is a loaded coin-toss of life or death, and no amount of encouragement will change that fact. What might help is us improving your gear by implementing the tech here. As to whether or not you get disemboweled, that’s between you and the titans that like Survey Corps Sashimi.”

              Levi’s mouth pulled up at the corners and said “Heh. Demoralizing.”

              “Whoa, I didn’t know your face could do that,” Simone said in reference to his smirk.

              “Why?” he asked as he watched most of their group play with a colorful beach ball.

              “I assumed you had several small aneurisms that left you with only two possible expressions,” Simone said matter-of-factly. He responded by pulling the strap of her top and letting it snap to her skin. She jumped and rubbed her shoulder where it stung. “I’d like it if you didn’t die, though.” As she checked for redness, Levi turned to study her. Simone looked up and caught his stare. “What?”

              Several expressions flitted over his face in quick succession, but all he said was “My face works fine, brat,” and turned away. He stood up and extended his hand to her. “You should get in the water, since you’re in that loud-ass get-up,” he said referring to her swim suit.

              Simone considered it. “Well, this sun block _is_ water-resistant,” she remembered; Claire had insisted as much. “But, I don’t want to have to do my hair again.”

              “Looking at that thing hurts my eyes, so I’ll do it,” he said plainly.

              “Really? Hot damn!” She immediately took his hand and rose giddily; she almost never turned down a free hair-do. She skipped toward the fun their assembly was making. “You’ll have to follow my instructions to the ‘T’, though.”

               “Fine,” he said as they neared the beach ball romp, “since I’m going to fix it anyway. . .” he trailed off.

              She turned around curiously and caught a face full of water. “Wha—LEVI!!” Before she’d closed her eyes against the spray, she knew she’d witnessed him grinning devilishly.

 

 

 

              “Those kids looked like they had seen you spooning a trash can,” Simone said to Levi as they strolled toward home. Her sheer cover-up flowed lightly around her body, exposing one of her buxom thighs and tickling Levi, who’d put on a blue t-shirt after leaving the beach. The sun warmed the breeze and wafted smells from eateries they passed as people trickled in for early dinners.

              “I don’t usually take part in recreational things. I’m directly under Erwin in our operation, so I have a lot on my plate,” he explained.

              “Makes sense. Did you like the ice cream?” she asked; the group had gotten refreshments at the boardwalk before heading home.

              “It wasn’t bad. The ‘coffee’ flavor was good.”

              “Yeah, even though I don’t drink much coffee, I like its flavor a lot. I’ll make you some tomorrow, since you’ve never had it.” She hiked her tote higher on her shoulder.

              “Give that to me,” Levi ordered.

              “No, I’ve got it.”

              “Don’t be stupid, it’s full of my clothes,” he insisted and made a grab for it.

              “I’ve carried heavier tha— oh!” she tried to hoard the bag but her foot slipped into a gaping manhole in the middle of the street.

              Levi’s hands reflexively shot out to catch her and easily pulled her out of harm’s way. He had not been picky about where he held her, so he found himself partially clutching her bosom and derriere. Stunned from almost falling into the man-made abyss, Simone didn’t immediately process what had happened. As Levi removed his hands, he grabbed the bag off her shoulder and carried on as if nothing had happened.

              “Levi, you just fondled the shit outta me!” she said with wide eyes and an impish grin.

              “’Thank you, Levi, you saved me even though I was being such a damned difficult brat,” he scripted her gratitude aloud.

              “Thank you . . .”

              “That’s more like—”

              “. . . for having such a good grip,” she poked happily. “Now I understand why you’re called ‘Humanity’s Strongest’.”

              “If a titan would be so kind as to eat me now,” he said, covering his face.

              “You really know your way around a boob. And the way you grabbed them cheeks? Pure skillz. You’re not new to this, Captain Ackerman.” She chuckled and adjusted the thin fabric over her swimsuit.

              “I should’ve let you fall into a pile of shit, shitty fat ass” he mumbled ruefully.

              “Your mouth is saying that, but your hand said ‘dat ass tho’.”

              “I’m going to turn myself in,” he said, whipping around.

              Simone laughed and conceded to cease. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry! I appreciate it, really. It’s just too easy to piss you off.”

              “I’ll return the favor sooner or later,” he promised her with a blank expression.

              “That’s just scary. I don’t want to be involved in whatever sadistic plot you come up with.”

              “Don’t care. You’re the main feature.”

              Simone had more jokes she wanted to unload, but thought better of it.

              After walking in silence for a while Levi asked, “Are you going out again tonight?”

              “Nah. I just wanna chill. Why?”

              He shrugged. “Just wondering how life here works.”

              “Well, some people do party constantly. It depends. You shouldn’t base your knowledge of people here off just me.”

              “Okay, I’ll find someone else willing to harbor a rude stranger. I’m sure it’ll be a learning experience for both of us.”

              “You could do that,” Simone said sarcastically, “or we could Google.”

              “Is that some voyeuristic hobby?”

              “No, it’s something that lets you find stuff on the internet. But . . . it could be considered voyeuristic . . . Whatever. You’ll see.” She remembered the black sedan from earlier. “Do you think we were inconspicuous enough today?”

              “Well, I wouldn’t give a couple of your associates my seal of approval, but you had the right idea,” he said with a tilt of his head.

              Simone felt a little shimmer of satisfaction spread through her. “Yay for me. You know, I told Mr. Clean that you all were insane.”

              “Might be true,” he said frankly. A gentle wind rustled his drying hair.

              “If it was him watching us, he’d probably wonder why I’m bringing a patient home with me,” Simone said contemplatively.

              “He might be now. Did you specify anyone?”

              “Not really.” A common ruse she’d seen many times on TV popped into her head and she laughed aloud.

              “What’s wrong with you?”

              “I was just thinking about what would happen in this situation on one of my shows.”

              “I’m listening.”

              “Well, we’d pretend to be together. Romantically. But I don’t expect you to—” she stopped short when he laced his fingers through hers. “You don’t have to do anything that you’re not comfortable with,” she said, not wanting to seem coercive. _Ugh, I sound like a rape PSA! Your hand doesn’t need a disclaimer!_

              “I’m not comfortable with getting arrested, so act like we’re fucking tonight.”

              “How tawdry,” Simone said as she tried to twist her lips out of a grin. “But we’re both adults. Don’t you think hand holding is a little juvenile?”

              “You’re juvenile, so why not?”

              “Touché, sir. But we do want to look believable.” She concocted a ludicrous scenario in her head and began animatedly, “Consider this: you shove me against the wall, pop my tit out and start suckin’! While I’m undoing your pants, you pull a condom out your pocket and use your teeth to rip it open. Then you push me down and tell me to put it on with—”

              “For fuck’s sake, stop,” he cut her off crossly.

              “But you need to hear the rest.”

              “I wish I hadn’t heard any of it.”

              Simone laughed. “It would convince whoever’s watching us. Or get us taken to jail for different reasons.” She bent towards him, mocking, “What, Levi? Are you afraid you might lik—Mph!!”

              The end of her tease had been muffled by Levi’s lips as he held her face in place to receive a kiss. Her eyes widened in shock as she tried to process why his lips was suddenly touching hers, but gave up and just closed them. Mouth open, she tilted her head as she kissed him back, matching his pressure. He unclasped her hand and trailed his fingers up her arm, lightly across her collar bone, and rested his palm on her cheek. With a graze of his tongue against the rim of her top lip she tasted traces of sweet coffee flavor lingering from the ice cream. She pressed harder against him and felt her skin warming quickly when he did the same. Uncertainly, she raised her fingers to stroke his jawline and when he made no move to stop her, she caressed all the way down to his forearm. Simone released a tiny sigh.

              Levi bent his head down a little and they disconnected. He rested his head against hers for a moment with his eyes closed and took a breath. The bag on his arm rustled as he made to grab her hand again. “That should do it,” he said simply and resumed their walk, bringing her beside him.

              Simone felt the tips of her ears heat and spun her face sharply away from him to hide the silly grin stretching uncontrollably over her it. _“I can’t believe . . . he’s so . . . I didn’t . . . fuuuuhh,”_ she stuttered inwardly.

              “Holy shit, that actually shut you up.”

              “I’m just . . .” she could not formulate a retort so she finished with a disdainful mumble.

              “I think I’ll make note of this for my ‘sadistic plot’. Or when you just won’t be quiet.”

              Simone found enough of her voice to say, “nothing can shut me up.”

              “Challenge accepted.”

 

 

## (7)

 

 

              Simone lingered uncertainly in her bedroom doorway, staring at Levi as he sat with one leg crossed over the other in the armchair, reading on her tablet. She didn’t want to interrupt his silent enjoyment, but he was desperately needed. Should she just brazenly ask? _“Yes, he would not want me to ‘shit around the fucking bush’,”_ she assured herself. She had to make her desire known.

              “Levi?” she asked lightly. He grunted and did not look up from his newest literary discovery. “I need you to . . . do it again.”

              He lifted his eyes to her and saw she only wore the towel wrap. “Why? You were satisfied before I was dumped into your life. You’ll manage without my ‘ _special touch’_.”

              “But it feels so good when you do it! You’re so firm and you can go for so long! I can’t get the same feeling with just my hands.

              Levi considered it blankly for a moment. “Fine. But don’t ask me to go as hard this time.”

              Simone clapped excitedly and hurried into position. Levi pressed her down until her body made a chubby right angle. He let the warm fluid coat his hand and rubbed it on, saturating her.

              “Are you ready?”

              Simone responded with a shaky “Mm-hm!”

              He plunged his fingers deep and a thick frothy liquid formed almost immediately around them. Massaging smoothly, she was soon worked into state of limp pleasure as she moaned lightly at his touch.

              “You’re so damn noisy,” he said after five minutes.

              “It’s your fault for touching me so nicely. The least you can do is scratch the itch you’ve given me.”

              “Hey, stop squirming, you’re making this fucking difficult,” he said and dug at her harder.

              “I . . . can’t . . . heeelp . . . iiiiiiit . . .. Harrrrderrrr,” she said thickly.

              “Ugh, I’ve told you about using that voice,” he growled in her ear.

              “So sorry, Levi,” she whispered through her delighted smile.

              He accepted her apology and in return rubbed her with renewed intensity. She tried to stifle the pleased groan for fear that he’d stop his heavenly work. _Plop. Plop. Plop_. The foam dripping off her by the dollop went unnoticed in the midst of Levi’s mind-numbing touch.

              “Is this enough for you?”

              “No, not yet, keep going!” she said quietly, knowing her expression was one of pure bliss.

              He continued to raise the speed of his fingers with the crescendo of her hums as his ambiance. “You’re too damn hard to please,” he said as his fervid pace reached its peak and a small shiver traveled down Simone’s spine.

              “Mmmmm!” she cried out finally. Levi lessened his pressure on her and let the initial foam flow away from her. He swirled the fresh, thicker substance on her and kneaded it slowly, sinking in as far as he could. Once she was properly soaked, he let that run off of her too.

              Simone sighed wistfully and rose back to her full height. Levi tossed her a towel. “Clean up this mess.” She wrapped it around her soaking tresses; her hair washing was complete.

              “Hmph. You wipe it up, you’re the freeloading fugitive.”

              “I’ve been tidying this place more than a guest should, already,” he said, situating himself back into his seat.

              “You’ve only been here for two weeks. It’s not like my home is filthy! Your standards are just way too high. It’s water, it’ll dry. We’re supposed to be cleaning up today anyway—I see no reason to start early. Or maybe you’re too interested in that book to put it down?” Simone said hopefully.

              “Of course not, this is just studying material. And don’t take too long on your hair, brat. You’ll need your strength for this,” he said. Simone could see he was serious. She huffed and resigned herself to the chores ahead of her with thoughts full of surliness at her sodden curls for not doing themselves and Levi for insisting she toil with him.

             

 

              A couple of hours later, she left the bathroom with a rustling mass of hair laying on her back, each dark strand uniformly straight. Her mane tickled the base of her backbone as she walked over to Levi. He beheld her new ‘do and said, “I assume you’re going to tie all that up somehow? Or shall I use your head instead of the broom?”

              “You’re not funny. Sorry Levi, but we’re gonna have to pause the cleaning. I have to go to work to see what they’ve dug up on Eren’s spinal fluid.”

              “Do I have to go?”

              “No.”

              “Well, I’m not pausing anything. You’re bothersome, so I’ll probably be faster without you here,” he said, pulling on her cleaning gloves with a sharp _snap_ for each. “Bye.”

              “You can’t tell me ‘bye’ like that! This is _my_ home, midget. I’ll take my bleach and ammonia with me,” she threatened.

              “You won’t make it far, shitty fat ass.”

              Simone snorted derisively as she walked out the door, but silently agreed with him; she had seen Levi lift twice his weight without the slightest sign strain when they’d first met. He could probably chase her down and carry her back into the apartment, cleaning materials and all.

 

 

 

              Simone approached the exercise room at work thirty minutes later and heard a series of frantic exclamations followed by urgent shushing. _“Who has lost their mind? Clearly they’ve forgotten we are actively breaking the law . . .”_ she thought before pushing open the door. It turned out to be Hange producing the excited outbursts with Moblit behind, trying to act as Hange’s better judgement. Hange was bending towards a very large microscope with Everett and James on either side of them. Ferric leaned carelessly back on a chair’s hind-legs, eyes closed and seeming peaceful.

              “Where’s Claire?” Simone asked, bringing their attention to herself.

              “She had to go to a recital,” said Everett. “Come check this out!”

              Simone obliged and peered down into the microscope while Moblit tried to scribble down all Hange’s science-y buzzing. Human cells were being broken down by proteins, but before the body could be destroyed, the cells would rebuild themselves as if she were witnessing a fast forwarded video of the process. She watched, transfixed as the cell killers fruitlessly began their task again. Rising, she said, “That’s unusual.” Glancing toward the slide, she noticed it was releasing a thin wisp of vapor. “Does Eren give off steam, sometimes, Hange?”

              “Yes, of course! Every time he uses his titan form or focuses on healing himself! Some of the titans we’ve faced use the steam to ward us off. It’s amazing, isn’t it?!”

              Simone took in Hange’s maniacal face with a little concern. “It is, but are you always like this?” Moblit looked at Simone with the weariest face she had ever seen.

              “I just get so excited when I talk about titans and the science behind them!” Hange answered, nearing Simone until their noses were almost touching. “With the miraculous equipment of your world, we should be able to make great strides in the titan field! How could I not be in high spirits?”

              A tickled smile spread onto Simone’s face at Hange’s antics. “Totally understandable. But, that looked like a muscle cell. I thought we were using his nerve cells?”

              “We were,” answered James. “Of course, it kept dissolving. Once we finally found a method of viewing it, we saw that it had a strangely large number of a type of modified stem cells.”

              “The stem cells didn’t do anything until we introduced them to another kind of cell from Eren’s body,” Everett said. “And then, not only did the cell make itself into whichever cell it met, it started replacing the faulty cells with perfect ones.”

              “You must see this type of biological miracle every day, huh?” Simone asked Ferric, who was still unfazed.

              “Ha. I was riding the hype train on fan-boy wheels, too. But that things been rebuilding itself for hours. It’s just like watching an ant-hill,” he explained, setting the chair’s legs back on the floor and leaning toward them.

              Simone wondered how long the cycle would continue. “Has it changed pace at all?”

              “Not as long as it has some sunlight. The cells from the spinal cord have chloroplasts in them. After setting it in the dark for a few hours, the process slowed so much that the caspases were actually able to destroy the regenerating cells.”

              “It makes so much sense!” Hange burst out, looking feverish. “Non-shifter titans aren’t active at night. Now we know why. Moblit!!” Hange whipped their index finger in his direction. “Write “chloroplasts” down with a definition and draw a picture of it! Hurry!!”

              “You don’t have to have him write everything down by hand, you know. Just use the phones,” Simone offered.

              Ferric shook his head and said quietly, “They know.”

              “We’ve already Googled it and have diagrams saved of them! These notes will be used when we go home and don’t have these excellent devices or print-outs. Moblit and I came to werk!” Hange assured her.

              Simone stepped back with an impressed grin. “Ferric, what have you been teaching them?”

              “They found Reality TV, Simone. I don’t know what to tell you.”

              Simone chuckled and continued. “So, Eren could theoretically live forever if he wasn’t blown to itty bitty pieces in a dark room.”

              “Not quite,” James said. “A significant amount of his nervous system would have to remain intact as well. This regeneration ability only works so long as it has an active consciousness to obey. We modified it to behave as if the cells were their own consciousness.”

              Simone thought quietly for a moment. “So . . . Wolverine’s regeneration is more powerful?” she asked with raised brow.

              “What?” James said with a confused look.

              “I’d say so,” Everett interjected knowingly.

              Simone pointed to him appreciatively and nodded. “Mutants for the gat damn win. So, obviously this could be good for the whole kit and caboodle of medicinal science. Except for the whole ‘gigantic cannibal’ side effect.”

              “Exactly. We don’t want to be hasty and end up with the same problem here that the Survey Corps have in their world,” said James.

              “Iiii don’t know. How bad could a few naked giants get before the coast guard or something handle’s ‘em?” asked Everett.

              “We don’t know what kinda abilities this might give people, though. It may react totally different here than from Walls Land,” reasoned Ferric. “Everything about our environment is more advanced, so who’s to say our titan’s won’t be, too?”

              “True,” agreed Everett.

              “First of all: the name ‘Walls Land’ sucks a healthy amount of ass,” Simone started. “I was thinking about calling their home ‘Titania’? Eh? Eh?”

              Hange put a hand to her chin and nodded appreciatively. The rest of them murmured their agreement or indifference.

              “Okay then! It shall henceforth be called Titania by us! Secondly: let’s focus on making something to help them fight the titans without so many casualties,” said Simone. “Something that would hinder them or take them out with minimal contact.” She considered it for a moment. “Acid?”

              “Yes, that would be excellent if we found one that corrodes quickly enough. Maybe some type of extreme freezing thing?” asked Everett.

              “That wouldn’t last for long, though,” said Hange. “Titans can get extremely hot.”

              “We should take more time to analyze the behavior of the cells. We may even be able to isolate the trigger of the mindless giantism and reverse it! It would require more of Eren’s samples,” James said with subtle excitement.

              “We should get some of Eren’s titan form,” Simone said. “Hange, would it be safe for us if he transformed while we’re getting a look at y’all’s gear?”

              “Of course! Eren’s in total control of his titan. Most times.” Hange added the last bit quietly.

              “Okay—wait, what was that? Most times?” Everett said, stumbling over himself.

              “Yes, there were a few times when he went on destructive rampages, but that hasn’t happened for a while!”

              “Say it does happen?” prompted Ferric.

              “Well, a little suffering is good for the soul. We’ll probably cut him out before he causes too much damage, no problem!”

              Hange’s remark sparked recognition in Simone’s brain. “Hange, are you a _Trekkie_?”

              “Ah! Your’s is the superior intellect, Simone! You got me,” Hange confessed and clasped both of Simone’s hands. “We must debate on which movies take the cake!”

              Simone chuckled. “I’m not as well versed in Star Trek lore as my mother, but, yeah, I’ll get in on that action sometime.”

              Everett continued on their more pressing topic. “Based on the direction Claire said they rode from, and how long they were wandering, we’ve picked out a general entry point area. So, that’s where we’ll go to test out the gear and have Eren transform.”

              “It’ll be a bit of a hike to find cover and tall enough trees,” James said with a shrug.

              “How’s it all sound, boss lady?” Ferric asked Simone.

              “Fine with me. I’ll have to swap out my costume shoes. But if that’s all I should probably be going. Levi’s cleaning and he might overdo it.”

              “He’s definitely overdoing it,” Hange assured her.

 

 

 

              Simone parked her car in the garage and sifted through her keys, not noticing a man in the path as she approached her apartment complex. “Oof!” she said, bumping into the elderly gentleman and making him drop a small camera he was holding. “I’m sorry sir, I hope it’s not broken. . .”

              She dropped into a squat to collect the man’s things while he realigned his jacket and fedora. “Oh, thank you, young lady. An old codger like me should pay more attention,” he commented.

              “No, you’re fine,” she said, handing him the device and smiling at him. She caught a glimpse of his light blue eyes and glasses before he looked down and his hat obscured his profile; something about his face felt familiar. She brushed the feeling off with a bright, “Have a nice day!” and walked speedily up to her apartment door.

              Simone inhaled the crisp scent of orange and lemon that greeted her upon entry into the apartment. The windows had been thrown open and she could hear the sounds of the neighborhood floating into the living room area. Levi exited her bedroom as she looped her still straight hair into a tight ball on top of her head.

              “I’m ready to help,” she said and went toward her room to find her lounge wear. Before she passed the door, though, she noticed something bright-colored in Levi’s hands. “Why do you have my vibrators?

              “I was putting up your laundry just now and these were in the drawer. They look like dicks.”

              “Astute observation,” Simone said, taking them from him.

              “Do you stick those in your pussy?" he asked straightly.

              She tried not to let the pleasure she took in his phrasing touch her voice. “Yes, I do.”

              “And they vibrate?”

              “Mm-hm,” she said, opening the drawer her toys belonged in.

              “Show me.”

              Simone whipped her head around to look at him, wide eyed with shock. _“Should I? Which one would I use? I’m not ready! Fuck! I wore my laundry day panties—these things have holes and look all dingy . . . should I change into lingerie? Or just no panties? Should I rip them off my crotch and hide them in my pant leg? Is that possible? Will this lead to full-on sex? MY BODY IS READY! But these damn fugly drawls, though! Ugh!”_ Her face revealed none of these thoughts and she asked, “Right now? Inside . . . me?”

              “No, you fucking exhibitionist. Just make it vibrate. _Outside_ your ‘sugar walls’, if at all possible.”

              “Oh!” she let out a relieved laugh and pressed a button on the blue one easily; she had been trying to steel herself against the pain she assumed came from tearing one’s underwear directly from their body. “It twists, too. See,” she pressed another button and the phallic instrument whirred from side to side. “I’ll probably need to wash it again since you’ve had your grubby paws all over them, though.”

              Levi looked insulted. “Mine are the cleanest hands to ever touch that contraption, shitty fat ass. I should sanitize _my_ self.”

              “Whatevs. A dirty old perv like you befouls everything he touches,” Simone sassed him.

              “Except you, of course. Can’t befoul a cesspool of deviation and degeneracy,” he shot back, turning away from the pleasure tools waving at him.

              “A cesspool that _you_ stuck your tongue in.”

              “I’ll do it again if it’ll make you zip it.”

              Simone smiled cheekily at his threat and went on to change her clothes.

              Levi had already thoroughly cleaned her master suite, the kitchen and dining room in the short time she’d been gone. So, when Simone donned her gloves and tractile slip-ons, put on her energizing playlist, and danced into the living room with a broom, the air around Levi seemed to darken and swell with discord. The music filled the apartment, carrying her through the dull cleaning duty as she swept and mopped. He reserved a special agitation for the more sensual songs in her repertoire; those were the tunes she would wind her hips and caress herself to.

              She wiggled her chest to the whine of a violin while she fitted his bed with fresh sheets and Levi seethed as he scrubbed away in the guest bathroom. Simone might’ve guessed he could see every jiggle as he sanitized the already clean quarters but she didn’t mind him. She sashayed right past his surly face and toward the dryer to get out her own bedsheets. A ballad she found particularly seductive spurred her to bend over and sing as she swayed her sizeable booty left to right.

              Levi chose then to exit the bathroom right then and caught an eyeful of her rolling derriere. “Could you not? If your ass were a cleaning rag we’d be done already.”

              “What’s the rush?” she said looking up at him from between her legs. “Wouldn’t you rather I be thor-o-ough?” she said, sinuously drawing her body upright again and looking over her bouncing shoulder at him.

              “Are you?”

              “Of course. If I’m tidying up like you want, why can’t I get down while I’m at it?”

              He followed her as she sauntered across the living room, weaving her arms around herself. “You’re going so slow I could literally scour circles around you.”

              “You’re being such a tyrant. Fine, if you want me to go faster, help me with my bed, Napoleon.”

              “Who is Napoleon?”

              “A French Emperor from centuries ago who was short and wanted to conquer the world so he could make everyone clean everything forever,” she said and fanned a sheet over her bed.

              “Hm. I don’t see the problem,” he commented as he pulled the sheet tight on one side of the bed.

              “I lied about the cleaning part,” Simone confessed with a dubious smile.

              “Tch.”

              “Speaking of notable people—who is Beyonce?”

              “A black female singer, performer and actress. One of her songs is ‘Single Ladies’,” Levi answered. “Married to rapper Jay-Z, has a huge fandom.”

              “Okaaaaay. What about the Terminator?”

              “Played by actor Arnold Schwarzenegger, he was Mr. Universe, and is also the governor of this state: California. I still don’t know why this is important but he’s ‘stupid buff’.”

              “Oh, it’s important if you want to seem normal, young grasshopper,” Simone said seriously as they worked on the bed. “Who are the Avengers?”

              “That depends. Movie, or comics? And if we’re talking about the comics, which timeline or universe?”

              “Oh-ho! What is a meme?”

              “A picture with words on it from the internet.”

              “Marijuana?”

              “Weed, ganja, blow, cannabis, trees. A plant that can make you happy, hungry, and sleepy.”

              “Name some social networks.” Her bed was fixed, so they went into the living room.

              “Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram.”

              Simone sunk into the couch and said, “You did great! Stand still and let me take a selfie of you to celebrate.”

              Levi began to protest then narrowed his eyes. “That’s not a selfie.”

              “You caught that! Okay, you did good, but next time the questions will be harder.” Simone fidgeted as she sat, feeling something hard under her butt.

              “I told you I was studying earlier. I’ll be ready for your shit questions. It’s not like I have any other type of training to do,” he said and leaned back comfortably.

              She undid the bun crowning her head and let it fall in slight waves. “Well, you have something engaging to look forward to. Next week, we’ll be going on a little field trip to watch you and your Survey peeps traipse around in your 3DM gear. And hopefully, Eren will titanize and we’ll get some goodies from him.”

              “’Goodies’? Are you hoping for titan shit?”

              “No,” she started then began to reconsider, “well, scientifically it would be useful. But you said they throw up the people they eat.”

              “Guess I’m not the only one paying attention.”

              “Duh. What kind of scientist would I be if I didn’t?” she asked. “We’re trying to get samples to help with our understanding of him and other Titans.”

              “So there’s no need for more from me or Mikasa?”

              “Feeling left out, little Levi?” Simone said and tilted her head insultingly.

              He grabbed Simone’s thigh firmly. “I think, by now, you know I don’t like to be referred to as ‘little’.”

              Simone smiled devilishly and confessed, “Maybe. I might just like to mess with you.”

              Levi looked at her and tightened his grip painfully. “Maybe I’d like an apology.”

              Bittersweet twinges made Simone’s teeth grind together. “I’m sorry . . . that you didn’t drink enough milk to grow!” she groaned through a clenched jaw.

              He sighed and released her thigh. “Wise-ass little shit,” he grabbed her wrist as she swatted at his arm.

              “That’s not how you really feel,” she retorted defiantly as he grabbed the other hand she swung at him.

              “Oh, I’ll show you how I feel,” Levi said lowly, his deadpan face inches from hers and imperfected by a single raised eyebrow. Simone found herself suddenly laying on his lap and assaulted by his free hand. Sensitive tickle spots all over her body were poked and she started to thrash and laugh almost immediately. He managed to hold her down and torture her like this for a full minute before tears were in her eyes and she pleaded with him to stop.

              “I’m sure your handy dandy height will get you out of this pickle,” he mocked her with continuous prods to her sides and thighs.

              “Okay! I’m sorry, Levi! I’m sorry for saying you’re short!” Simone panted in defeat. The expert jabs ceased and he released her hands. _“He almost made me piss myself . . .”_

              “How kind of you.” He rose and made his way to the refrigerator. She heard him gathering things as she rubbed her sides and sniffled, composing herself. He returned with a plate of double chocolate cookies and a glass of milk for her.

              Simone huffed. “Are you trying to bribe me after such rudeness?”

              “You’re one to talk. No, I just like these and you said you drink milk with ‘em. Didn’t you say you’d be lucky to make it through another cleaning session alive? Celebrate your good fortune.”

              Simone didn’t need much prompting to eat her homemade cookies; she knew the smooth chocolatey flavor would delight her taste buds as the morsels melted on her tongue. “Well, that is a miracle. Especially with you being a stickler for fun-less cleaning.” She grabbed a chocolate disc.

              “You can’t deny that I was more efficient.”

              “Yes, but that would’ve been the case regardless. You’re . . . optimized for getting into small spaces.” Simone thought it best not to poke the bear since he was in a biting mood. “And we still made good time.”

              Levi looked outside at the street full with sunlight and life of the afternoon bustle. He nibbled on the cookie but said nothing to refute her observation.

              “Now we have a whole half a day just waiting to be wasted.”

              “Tell me what happened with the samples.”

              “You’re interested?”

              “I asked about your shitty science experiment, didn’t I?”

              Simone took an energizing swig of milk and told him all about their discoveries and plans. When she finished he simply said “Hm.”

              “‘Hm’?? That’s all you got? That’s all you’ve absorbed from everything I said?”

              He looked at her questioningly. “What else is there to say?”

              “You could say what you think about it,” she said, holding her hands out.

              “I think I understood it.”

              Simone regarded him sarcastically. “Thank you for that fascinating take on Eren’s cells. It was conversational genius and I am better for it.”

              “You’re welcome. You all should consider how much steam Eren’s transformation will create. Someone might investigate and find us in the woods shitting around with a giant.”

              She pointed to him brightly, “That’s actually helpful.”

              “Tell me what your Halloween costume will be,” he said and bit into one of the chocolate delicacies.

              “You’ve found out about Halloween, too? What else has the internet taught you?”

              “It’s taught me that you’re particularly fond of big dicks and cumshot scenes.”

              Simone almost choked on her cookie. “What?! How did it teach you that??”

              “You don’t clear your browser history or use incognito tabs worth a damn,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’s forever in your recent searches. How much do you ‘pet your kitty’ on average?”

              Simone cleared her throat of chocolate and flipped her hair back from her face. “A lot, especially now that I’m single. It’s healthy. Aren’t you being nosy?”

              “It’s not nosiness if the information finds me. And if you’re a fucking nymphomaniac, it’s only polite that you tell me.”

              “If I were a nympho, I would’ve sexed you up by now, so leave me alone. Besides! I don’t see you telling what you fap to.” She took a thoughtful sip of milk. “Or if you fap at all.”

              “I don’t plan on it.”

              “On which?”

              “Both.”

              “That’s not fair! You know about my finger fun,” she reasoned, jabbing at his arm.

              “You didn’t have to tell me, I found out,” he said with a shrug.

              “If I guess it, will you tell me?”, she asked as she continued to prod.

              “No.”

              “Is it big titties? Little titties? Do you like to motor boat or have just enough for a handful?” she went on guessing in response to his silence. “Booty? Deep throating? Gay porn? Solos? Orgies? Interracial? Professional or amateur? I know I like my porn to have a bit of context. Gangbangs? Tentacle rape? Maybe you like to read your filth. Nothing wrong with some sex-lit. BBW’s? Or petites? BDSM? MILFs?”

              “Is that what you do with your free time?” he asked.

              “One time I watched this nicely aged woman make a 20-something guy tap out,” Simone continued. She’s one of my role models. How about Furries? Exhibition? Frottage? Lesbians with the extra-long dildo’s? Voyeurism? Midgets? Porn’s not very politically correct . . .” she went on naming types of sexual media and poking his arm until she had listed everything in her mental stockpile. The only sound coming from Levi was the mushing of cookies between his teeth as he side-eyed her.

              He looked at the digit she pressed him with. “Is this the one you use to finger yourself?”

              “Answer my question first.”

              “You didn’t guess it.”

              “Tell me anyway.”

              He grabbed her hand to cease the poking. “Fine. I don’t have a preferred porn yet. I’ve only . . .  used my imagination.”

              “That’s so vague, though! What do you imagine? I want mor—” he silenced her by putting her own hand over her moving lips and his hand on top.

              “So is this the fingering finger?”

              _“It’s more than this one, but I won’t spill all the tea today,”_ she though before nodding her head in answer to him.

              “I fantasize about shit that I don’t want to tell you about. No means no, right?” he said with a serious stare.

              Simone sighed inaudibly and rolled her eyes, even though she felt guilty. She nodded. Levi released her hand. “Shame on you, manipulating my moral code. Now I feel like I’ve been harassing you.”

              “That’s an accurate feeling.”

              “Don’t worry, I’ll find out sooner or later.”

              “You should stop plotting on me and be happy I didn’t tickle, kiss, or spank you.

              “Uh-huh. You just want to do all those things because you looooove to feel on all my juicy bits,” she rubbed her hands sensually down her rotund torso and thighs as she shimmied what she presumed to be sexily.

              “Are you having a seizure?”

              “If I am, it’s a hot one,” she bit her lip for added naughtiness. She stopped suddenly and looked away. “My mom’s boyfriend used to do this dumb shimmy too cheer her up sometimes. He was so corny and she loved it,” she finished with a small smile.

              “She never married?”

              “Yes, she married. Not him though,” Simone answered vaguely, her smile fading.

              “To your father?” he prompted.

              “Ha! No, he might as well have been a sperm donor for all the presence he had in my life. My grandfather was all the daddy I needed,” Simone said, fond memories of her late grandfather floating to the surface of her mind.

              “Then who did your mother marry?”

              “This other guy,” she said with a wave.

              “It must’ve been pretty short if he was just some ‘other guy’.”

              “Oh, no. His name was Fredrick. She was married for almost ten years.”

              Levi stared at her. “A decade of marriage and you sound like he’s some shitty rando.” She shrugged. “Why?”

              Simone turned back to him. His face was devoid of interest, yet he was persistently probing. _“You won’t tell me what you touch yourself to, but you want to talk about my genealogy? Ugh, what a buzzkill.”_  “I just don’t have much to say about him.”

              “Why’d they divorce?”

              “He died.”

              “You don’t seem very sad about it. He was your stepfather for a while.” he said.

              “I’m not. I was happy. It doesn’t matter what he was to me. What does matter is these cookies need warming up, so they’ll be extra gooey and deelish,” she said rising from the couch and taking the platter or sweets with her.

              Levi watched her go, then turned to her empty seat on the couch. Her phone lay face up and had appeared to have recently been on call. “Who is ‘Fuckboy Foolery?’” he called to Simone.

              “Huh? Oh, from my phone? Oh, that’s just my latest failed romantic entanglement. Why?” She started the little box of radiation to heat the cookies.

              “You just called him,” he raised the phone eye level.

              “No I didn’t,” her brow furrowed as she spoke.

              “Hm. Must’ve been your massive ass.”

              Simone dropped her voice to a mutter. “You only think it’s so massive because you’re tiny enough to fit inside.” She smiled at her secret burn as the cookies finished. She collected them and turned only to find Levi inches away and glowering at her chin, presumably because he didn’t want to demean himself by looking up. “Uhmm, did you hear any—”

              “How about,” he cut her off and put both hands on the counter behind her, blocking any escape routes, “I see if my foot can get in your ass first, before we commit to the rest of me. Should be fine, since I’m so tiny and you don’t learn your lesson.”

 

 

## (8)

 

 

              Simone’s sedan was ill-equipped for the uneven ground of the forest’s edge. Levi was impatiently warning her not to hit any trees as the car crept forward.

              “Calm down, dude. I didn’t hit any trees before I met you, and I doubt that’ll change anytime soon,” Simone insisted again.

              “I can’t tell,” Levi said in a huff.

              “We’ll since you’re so shook, how about you drive next time? Oh, I forgot, you you can’t!”

              “I could learn.”

              “You can’t even get an ID, let alone a license.”

              “I learned how to use 3D gear without any teaching, shitty fat ass. This can’t be any harder.”

              Simone considered that for a while as they slid into a small thicket of bushes that hid James’ car. She planted a heeled foot on the grassy turf and tested its solidity.

              “Get out already,” Levi said, walking around the car to stand in front of her.

              “I don’t want my boots to sink into mud or something!” she said, rising to reveal her white outfit with blue trim. She had taken much joy in sliding her sexy, white thigh-high boots up her buxom legs and she wouldn’t see them sullied so easily. She shook the tassels of her shoulder guards and made sure her scarf was perfectly positioned. “I’m President of Honnoji Academy, after all. Is my booty out?” she asked, turning her back to him.

              “Define ‘out’,” he said as he hooked his blade reserves to his gear.

              “Can you see any underwear or naked ass?”

              “ . . . No, but I can definitely tell it’s there. A light breeze could expose your ‘cakes’ to the world.”

              “No, they’d just see my underwear. And it’s a good thing it’s night time. The Survey Kids might be hardened vets, but I’d spare them the glory of my panty-drawls.”

              Simone posed at herself in the car window—utterly pleased with her appearance—until Levi was ready, then began the trek uphill towards the blip on her GPS.

              “Not gonna lie, Levi, I’m excited to see y’all do stuff with that 3D gear of yours. What you guys did when the NASA agents were searching for you was freaking cool!”

              “Really, now?” he responded, stone-faced as always.

              “Yes, yall were like ninjas! I wish I could do some ninja-level shit.”

              “Maybe you can.”

              “What? Really? Your strap things probably wouldn’t fit me.”

              “They’re adjustable. But if you’re scared. . .” he insinuated.

              “Damn right. I’ve never swung through the air with harpoons shooting from my hips,” she retorted frankly.

              They emerged from the trees into a dell touched by the light of the moon and occupied by James, Erwin, and Armin. Simone assessed James’ black sunglasses and black suit with only a small triangle of crisp white shirt visible beneath the jacket and tie. “Men in Black? Agent ‘J’, I presume?” she guessed.

              “You presume correctly. I have no idea who you’re dressed as, though,” he said with a lost expression.

              “Satsuki Kiryuin! Kill la Kill? C’mon, James!” she stomped her kitten heel and flung her hands up. “Anyway, how are y’all?” she asked the two uniformed Corpsmen. They chatted idly until the rest of their group arrived, all in costume or uniform.

              Hange burst through the foliage and clapped briskly, “Let’s get this show started!” then without any further ado, shot the little grappling hooks from their barrels and was snatched onto a low hanging branch. She continued upward in this fashion, spurring the rest of the team to do the same. Soon, all the Survey Corps except Erwin and Eren were swinging to and fro in the boughs above. Simone and the others watched with wonder, giddiness, or apprehension.

              “This just doesn’t seem safe,” Claire worried as Connie saved himself from plummeting to the ground after a brief freefall.

              “It isn’t,” Erwin assured her. “But this is our best chance against the titans. We need to be able to attack the nape of their necks.” Hange went zipping right past them and launched into the air to spin around before anchoring to a tree and swinging like a child at a playground, “weeeeeee”-ing loudly the entire time.

              Ferric, who was recording all this, let out a quiet “Cool.”

              “Calm down, shitty glasses,” Levi yelled at Hange over Moblit’s pleas for his team leader to restrain themselves. “The whole fucking forest will hear us.” Connie and Sasha were getting a little rowdy, too, so he shot over to deliver smacks to the backs of their heads.

              Simone watched Mikasa twist and flip through the air with the most contrary expression: boredom. While she was distracted, Levi slid down like a spider from its web onto the tree limb closest to her. “Are you getting everything you need?”

              She tore herself away from fangirling at the spectacle of awesomeness and answered, “Yeah, we’re gonna have Ferric look at the mechanics of the gear later. Why don’t you do some tricks?”

              “What the hell am I, a show pony?” he asked, rising from his crouch and leaning against the tree trunk.

              “Kinda, yeah.” He was unmoved. “Please, Captain? For science.” If this mattered to him at all, she could not tell. Regardless, she continued to stare at his deadpan expectantly until he leaned backwards. Simone thought he was falling but she heard the little hooks release from their boxes and he catapulted into the air, propelled by the engine of his gear to the tips of the trees. He seemed to levitate for a moment before he descended, bouncing to every edge of the glade so fast that only the glare of his blades could be seen. He halted his fall by shooting his anchors out from him in opposite horizontal directions and came back to the branch he’d started at with a “ _thunk_ ”.  A shower of cut leaves fell from above and filled the clearing. Simone swatted them out of her hair, careful not to upset her clip-in bangs.

              “Satisfied?” Levi asked, leaning once more.

              “A bit dramatic with the foliage confetti, but it’ll do,” she said with a joking smile.

              “Tch. Are you going to have Eren transform soon? Or are we waiting for the titan talk show host?”

              Simone walked over to Eren and asked, “Are you ready to, uh, do the thing?”

              Eren nodded and said “You should stand back.” He waited until everyone was clear and raised a hand to his mouth. He bit himself and immediately light and heat exploded from the spot. Simone covered her face against the onslaught of steam pouring from Eren, but tried to peek through her fingers and beheld an uncanny sight. A fifty foot, giant, lipless version of Eren rose from the dense vapor and shook it’s hair back.

              _“Thank god I put that extra humidity blocker on my hair,”_ Simone couldn’t help but think as the steam curled about her, then felt the hair around her face shrinking towards her scalp. _“FUUUUUUUUCK.”_ Angrily, she snatched her synthetic bangs out and shoved them into her pocked as the hot fog started to evaporate. She looked skyward and figured it wouldn’t be long before people saw the huge smoke signal forming and came to snoop.

              Everett and James had the vials ready and wasted no time collecting an excess of samples from Eren’s titan body. “Yes, the airtight baggies are working!” Everett exclaimed happily.

              Simone, Claire and Ferric gaped at Titan-Eren. “Huh. No penis. Anti-climactic, but whatevs. Eren, can you understand me?” TitEren nodded and made a grunting noise. “How are you feeling? Thumbs up or down?” He made a thumbs up. “Good! I’m glad you’re not going on a killing rampage! That would have been a _big_ problem! Get it? Okay, that pun was a _giant_ mistake, you don’t have to laugh.” She abandoned her failed attempt at titan word play and went about coordinating her team to make sure they got every specimen they’d need as quickly as possible.

              As they finished, Claire asked, “Hey, Eren. If we were to stab this body, would you feel pain?”

              TitEren pinched his index and thumb together to convey “A little bit.”

              While Claire continued to question him, Simone noticed Sasha standing stock still with her ear pressed against a tree and Jean poking her questioningly. “Sasha, are you okay?” she asked.

              The brunette girl flicked her eyes urgently to Claire’s direction. “We need to go! Something is coming from _that_ direction!” She was pointing northeast, the direction of the NASA base.


End file.
